


The Last Verse

by Hinotima24



Series: This Love [3]
Category: Game of Thrones RPF
Genre: Break Up, Cheating, Equally heavy (eventual) fluff, F/M, Friendship/Love, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Love Triangles, Reconciliation, Romance, Shameless Smut, Slow Burn, Smut, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2020-03-05 21:32:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 193,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18837181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hinotima24/pseuds/Hinotima24
Summary: Kit Harington and Emilia Clarke; their story from just before the filming of Season 7 of Game of Thrones. Follow real life content at the beginning and goes off on its own journey at some point.This love is goodThis love is badThis love is alive back from the deadThese hands had to let it go freeAnd this love came back to me.This love left a permanent markThis love is glowing in the dark.These hands had to let it go freeAnd this love came back to me.- Taylor Swift, This Love





	1. Gone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nick: We got to ask you as well – because we gonna catch up with Emilia Clarke later on. Later on today I’m gonna interview her because we’re off to Exeter with her on this weekend and then next week we’re gonna have Emilia Clarke on the show. Is there anything that we should ask her? Or I mean what’s she like to work with? Is there anything she does that is particularly annoying that we should bring up? Is there anything that she likes that we should bring into the studio for her? 
> 
> Kit: Do you know what? I’ve never actually met Emilia-
> 
> Nick: What?! 
> 
> Kit: [Chuckles] I’m joking I’m joking. But you know I can’t say what she’s like to work with. I’ve never worked with her I’ve never shared a scene with her. Or I may not have done… But she- um- yeah, she’s a very good friend. I’m very very close with- with Clarke. She’s great fun, she’s a good lass. She’s good on a night out.  
> Nick: Oh maybe you need to invite her on the Sophie Milly (Maisie) night out.
> 
> Kit: That’s actually not a bad plan. Actually you know what, you can ask her. Ask her if she wants to come to the theatre next Thursday to see my play (Dr Faustus at the Duke of York Theatre) 
> 
> \- Kit Harington (Grimmy BBC Radio 1, May 2016)

_May 2016, London_.

**Kit**

Kit slipped into the car and wearily peeled off his jacket. Pulling out his phone from his bag, Kit glanced over to see unread messages from Rose, his girlfriend whom he had gone public with recently last month.

They were both invited to attend and Rose had commented to him coyly that it would be amazing if they could attend together. Kit remembered turning to gaze at Rose. He saw a woman who loved him with her whole heart, a woman who accepted him regardless of what he did, a woman who stayed by his side and supported him through a dark period of his life. He had held her and agreed to attend the Olivier Awards together, ignoring the weight and stifling anxiety that fell on his chest as he had agreed. He had pushed it away. Rose had accommodated him so much since they have been together, Kit knew it was the least he could do.

He opened the messages from Rose and smiled.

**You were amazing on the air, darling.**

**Let me know when you’re done with your session today at the clinic, I can meet you for lunch if you want?**

Rose had always accompanied him for his therapy sessions, since she showed up at the first one without telling him. Kit had put on a brave front and went to the clinic by himself. He hadn’t realise he was scared until he stood at the door of the clinic, unable to bring himself to push open the glass door. Until Rose took his hand and kissed him, smiling before together, they walked in. She would always wait for him outside at the reception. Once, she had joined him for a session when the therapist suggested it so Rose could know him better and help him but Kit found it hard to open up that day.

Today, Kit had requested for her not to come along at all, insisting she spent time shopping rather than wait for him. Rose had respected his request without asking why and Kit loved her more for it.

 **Thank you darling. Alright, let’s have lunch after.** Kit smiled down at the text before he added. **I love you.**

A beat passed before she replied. **I’ll meet you outside the clinic. Love you too.**

Kit made to close the chat but froze when he caught sight of her name. Stonily, his thumb tapped on that chat to see the messages he had sent to her; all ignored, every one of them.

The last time she had replied him was when he texted her to let her know that the therapy sessions were going good and he had thanked her for the recommendation. She had replied: **Get well soon, Kitten. No matter what happens, your biggest fan will always love and support you** **< 3 xx **

Kit has lost count of the number of times he returned to this chat just to stare at this message. The strength her words gave him was unbelievable; they could pull him from his darkest moments when nothing else could.

After that, Kit had texted her multiple times, trying to contact her but she did not reply. He did not know why. He had texted her regarding multiple things, some of them asking after her, others asking her opinion about some of his professional decisions, some personal decisions. She ignored them all. His latest two texts he had sent to her were regarding his upcoming play, Dr Faustus. He had asked her opinion if he should take this role as the lead in the play, courtesy of his declining confidence in his acting abilities. And after that, he had invited her to his play; with an extra ticket because he knew she liked to go to the theatre with someone. An experience is better shared; she believed that.

**Hi biggest fan, you are cordially invited to the Duke of York’s Theatre to catch the play of the century: Dr Faustus. Two VIP tickets awaits.**

_I would love for you to see what I have done, what I have been working on. If you were proud of me in The Vote, I think you would like this one._ Kit had thought but decided against putting it in the text. Instead, he had sent it with his heart in his mouth, praying she would respond.

She does not.

She was just… gone.

Kit did not know why. So he clung onto the last message she has sent him in two months like a lifeline.

Today, he was going to talk to his therapist about her. He had requested it. It made sense to him. She brought out the best in him and the worse of him. Regardless, she was always there with him; in person, in his thoughts or in his dreams. She will always be there; Kit knew.

Her absence both puzzled and worried him. It wasn’t like her to just ignore him so Kit knew she would have her own reasons. He wondered what they were and when she was willing to speak to him again, he would be there for her.

The car brought him to the clinic. After thanking the driver, Kit shuffled out of the car and quickly into the clinic with his head lowered. He was no longer as ashamed of being in therapy as the first few times but he wanted the public to know about this in his own time.

When the receptionist nodded for him to enter the office of his therapist, Kit thanked her and knocked. He heard a muffled call of ‘come in’ and opened the door. He stepped in and took an eager breath. He always did love her office. Kit had thought laughingly that it was what made him take to her in the first place and come back for follow-ups. It felt warm, welcoming and Kit felt he could breathe in this place.

“Hello Kit,” Sarah looked up from her papers in her lap and smiled at him. His therapist had a warm, uplifting smile that graced her kind face often. At the sight of it, Kit smiled. She had dark blue eyes, slim nose, champagne coloured lips. Her dark brown hair was pinned up in a bun today.

“Hello, Sarah. How are you?” Kit replied as he sat down at the plush sofa.

Sarah chuckled, “I should be asking you that but I am fine, thank you. And you?” she arranged the papers in her lap and put them away on the desk behind her.

“I’m fine. Actually… good, did an interview on Radio 1 this morning,” Kit said, reaching for a small square pillow to prop his back with.

Sarah’s eyes glanced to that gesture. She was nothing if not observant but Kit has long learned to be comfortable with that. It was her job, to tell Kit what he did not know about himself and how could she do that without observing him. Rose had helped Kit with that when he told her that he was uncomfortable with the way Sarah watched him, “I couldn’t listen in to your interview, I’m afraid. I was with another client. Could you tell me more about how it was?”

Kit nodded with a shrug, “the usual. They asked me about my play and I did my job,” he met Sarah’s eye to see her raised brow of obvious disapproval. They have been over the habit of his to sweep experiences that he didn’t like talking about under the carpet. Sarah has always been a strong advocate for talking about things when he can manage it, “Nick was great, really nice and funny. I had fun,”

“And yet, I sense something has happened,” Sarah hinted, “something you didn’t expect maybe?”

Kit knew what it was that has been bothering him but he didn’t realise he showed signs of it to Sarah. He sighed, “he brought up someone. I didn’t expect it…” Sarah nodded, gesturing for him to continue, “it was someone I told you I wanted to discuss with you more about,”

Sarah smiled, “well, I should thank Nick then, to get my client in the right headspace,”

Kit returned the smile politely, “he asked about her because she is going to be a guest on his show next week or something. He asked what she liked and what she does that is particularly annoying…” Kit’s voice trailed off and he chuckled, “but he probably doesn’t have the time to hear my answer to that,”

“Well, as it turns out, I do have the time,”

Kit blinked, looking to see Sarah lean back into her chair, ready to listen to his apparently lengthy answer, “you want me to talk about how she is annoying?”

“I want you to tell me more about her. So yes, let’s start with how annoying she is since a professional interviewer seems to think that is way to go,” Sarah grinned.

Kit laughed before he nodded, “she’s annoying like you wouldn’t believe,” he sighed exaggeratingly, “she always wants things her way and she’d do anything to get it, even if she has to beg and whine and kick up huge fuss like a toddler. For example, she calls me Kitten, even if it is a shite, _sorry,_ nickname for a man. I told her as much but if anything, she only calls me that twice as often than necessary,” Kit could not stop smiling despite the warmth that spread across his chest, from how riled up he is getting while complaining he supposed, “she’s always afraid to be a bother so she usually rejects help she needs, unless she is drunk. Then she’ll demand for too much help. And she is always thinking for others and would go out of her way for others, even if doing it hurts her and she still thinks she’s not doing enough. She’s so good at what she does, acting and all the press, but she has not the slightest clue. She has the most complicated bed-time routine and takes forever to get to bed; with her facial care products and her lavender pillow spray,” Kit snorted, “she loves a fry-up but hates her bread fried. I mean… who doesn’t like a fried bread? She will never order a Guinness but always sneaks a sip when others order one. I mean what kind of arsehole does that?” Kit chuckled, “and she always insists on putting on mascara, even if her face is already perfect; as if I don’t look ugly enough next to her. And the way she cannot hold in her laughter…god… you wouldn’t believe how loud it is,” Kit paused then, realising how long he has spoken. He met Sarah’s amused gaze and he felt his face begin to warm.

“She sounds…annoying,” Sarah nodded, her lips pursed against a smile. Kit’s face began to burn and he could only nod in silent agreement, “Kit,” Sarah began as she leaned forward to rest her elbows on her knees, “I want to be honest with my observations. I have told you this before. Because I think you’re an independent, smart, thoughtful lad who can make sense of it and that I am here to guide you in figuring things out by yourself,” Kit nodded, allowing her to continue. She paused, studying his face before she said, “I don’t think I have ever seen you this enthusiastic and eager to talk,”

Kit was silent.

“Like I said, you’re smart enough to ponder what that means for you,” Sarah said gently, “do you need some time to digest that?”

He shook his head, meeting her eye to show her he was ready to continue, “I haven’t spoken to her in two months,” his voice sounded strangled.

“And how does that make you feel?”

Kit couldn’t say. His chest was weighted down and stifled with emotions at the same time. He shook his head and dropped his gaze.

“Why do you think you two haven’t spoke?” Sarah asked instead.

Kit frowned, “I don’t know. We were on good terms the last time we met, so I don’t think she’s upset with me…” he said, “sometimes, she does things… that she thinks is for the best,”

“For who?”

“For me,” Kit said without missing a beat. There wasn’t any doubt in his mind then that whatever Emilia’s reason for not talking to him, she thinks it is better this way for him. Even if it was unfathomable to him what the actual reason was. _How could talking to her be bad for me?_

Sarah nodded slowly, “alright, what shall we call her?” Kit was familiar with this. Sarah wanted him to give names to people they discussed, as she explained to him at the beginning. She wanted him to be comfortable, and that included keeping identity of people close to his chest if he so wanted. Rose had went ahead to introduce herself to Sarah in the clinic while she was waiting for him, so they didn’t have to discuss that.

“Milly,” Kit said definitively. Sarah smiled and Kit explained, “I call her Milly,”

“You seem to like your nickname for her,” Sarah commented airily.

“More than I like her nickname for me,” Kit quipped. Sarah laughed, nodding.

“Tell me more about Milly, anything you are comfortable with saying,” Sarah prompted.

Kit settled back into the sofa, “she’s annoying, like I mentioned,” he rolled his eyes but his traitor lips smiled, “but we’re-“ Kit paused, “best mates,” he decided. Sarah raised a brow and Kit explained, “not like in a bad way. But she’s my best friend. From the first moment we met, I felt I could talk to her. It’s like there is this connection. Strangely enough, I felt accepted by a stranger who barely knew me then. After that, there was just no stopping our friendship. Outside of my family, she’s the person that comes to mind when I need advice, when I need help or even when I have an extra ticket to a play. She’s probably the person who knows me the best because we have such similar paths. And because she understands me so well, better than I know myself; I’d always say. She knows what I need when I need it, even when I myself didn’t realise it,”

Sarah nodded, encouraging him. 

“We were together, for a time,” Kit heard his voice faltered and he gazed down at his hands.

“How was that?” Sarah asked quietly after Kit did not continue for a long moment so she continued, “from what you have said of your friendship, I would think your relationship would be-“

“Amazing,” Kit said thickly with tears prickling his eyes, “it was amazing; the happiest moments of my life. And they happened not because we were on holiday, or in some exotic country, or doing something crazy. They happened because she was there with me. Those moments happened in my mother’s kitchen, in a café I always went to at Worchester, in my sad, small apartment I shared with my other best mate. We would just be cooking, cleaning, reading together on a sunny day…” he smiled wistfully. He glanced to Sarah to see her watching him. He came back to himself and blinked, continuing, “we were separated later, because of our work. We had to work on different continents, not just for filming but for press and auditions for other jobs. We both wanted to always be with the other, so it became difficult on both of us,” tears welled up in his eyes, “but Milly was doing very well at work, better than me and she was asked to do publicity and audition for roles,” Kit chuckled, “I was very proud of her but she felt trapped between her work and spending time with me. She did not think it is fair to me; for her to keep choosing work over me and hurt me, time and time again. Having to make a choice broke her… So she decided to end it,” he blinked back tears, forcing a tight, very unconvincing smile, “before it got too difficult for us to even be friends,”

Sarah gave him a sad, empathetic smile, “were you? Hurt, by her choosing work over you,”

Kit took a slow breath, enough to steady his voice, “I was,” he admitted, “how can I not, when I thought we’d have a month of holiday together? After being apart for months only for her to tell me that she would be going for some press,”

“And how do you feel about it now?” Sarah asked gently.

“Regret,” Kit whispered, “I understand it better now. I am going through the choices Emilia has had to make. I should have-“ Kit stopped himself, pressing his lips together firmly. He pressed his thumbs over his closed eyelids.

He heard her voice after a long silence, “Kit?”

“Nothing, we’re just best mates now, and I have learned to live with that fact,” Kit forced a smile, so much so his cheeks felt stretched too wide.

“Have you?” Sarah asked.

Kit’s smile slipped from his face. He could hear the doubt in her words but her gaze was as soft and kind as ever. Kit shifted, folding his legs, “she recommended you to me,” Sarah raised her brow, “I mean she’s not seeing you, you’re seeing one of her mates,”

“Was she the one who convinced you to go for therapy?” Kit nodded mutely. Sarah smiled, “you two have a beautiful relationship,”

No longer able to look at her, Kit turned away from her.

“Why did you request to talk about her, Kit?” Sarah asked.

“Because…” Kit paused, wondering why, “I don’t know,” he admitted, “why do you think?”

Sarah chuckled, “what I think doesn’t matter as much as what you think-“

He sighed, “I said I don’t know-“

“Well, you asked to talk about her so the reason is probably there, you just haven’t realised it,” Kit frowned, confused, “I will say what I noticed from what you’ve told me, if that’s what you want,” Sarah had a kind look in her eyes. At Kit’s cautious nod, she said, “in today’s session, you are the happiest I have ever seen,” she smiled sadly, “and the saddest,”

Kit chuckled bitterly but he did not comment.

Sarah looked understanding as she commented airily, “Rose isn’t here today,”

Kit shook his head even if that wasn’t a question, “I told her not to come,” Sarah raised her brows meaningfully and Kit took a breath, explaining, “because…” Sarah smiled in approval, “I don’t think she would like it very much if she found out I requested to talk about Milly…”

“Have you spoken with her about Milly?” Sarah asked.

Kit nodded, trying to swallow the lump in his throat at the mention of that conversation, “yes, I almost lost Rose because of it. Rose left, for a while. But she came back,”

“Why did she leave?”

“She was upset, that I hid my past with Milly from her,” Kit said, “then she confronted me about how I feel about Milly now. And I told her the truth; that Milly will always have a special place in my life. That upset her too, understandably,”

“But Rose came back,”

“She accepted it,” that puzzled Kit till this day. _How can you still love someone when they love another?_ “Rose is… an incredible person,”

“Yes, she is,” Sarah smiled.

“I love her,” Kit didn’t know why he said that but he knew he said it a lot; to Rose, to other people, to himself.

A pause. “That’s nice. You mentioned you’ve known her for… 4 years is it?” Sarah asked.

“I think so. I have never met a more loving and accepting person,” Kit picked at his nail bed distractedly.

“Where are the two of you in this relationship?”

Kit frowned, meeting her eye, “what do you mean? We’re dating…” Sarah raised her brow meaningfully and Kit chuckled in disbelief, almost nervously, “no, we’re not currently planning any next steps or anything. I mean… we just came out to the public with our relationship at an official event. I’m still grappling with questions from the press about how long we have been dating…”

“And how has announcing your relationship been for you?”

Kit shrugged, “fine I guess… Rose is happy that we don’t have to hide our relationship. We can walk the streets when out on dates, we can hold hands. We don’t have to hide our faces,”

Sarah seemed surprised, “and… you prefer that?”

“No, not really,” Kit chuckled, running his fingers through his long curly hair.

“Excessive attention…”

“Makes me nervous,” Kit nodded, “yes, we have established that a few sessions ago,”

“And?”

Kit gaped like a fish for a beat before he said, “you said exposure would be good for me,”

“I did,” Sarah nodded, “but… do you find the attention from your now-public relationship too excessive?”

 _Yes._ Was his first thought. Kit swallowed audibly, “a little but I’m coping with it just fine. Rose’s ease with it all helps. A lot. And after we went public with this, Rose is obviously happier. She feels surer about us this way. Takes away her doubt of my commitment, I guess,” Kit explained, “I gave her plenty of reason to doubt me anyhow,” Sarah was studying him with a look that made Kit squeamish but Kit continued, “that’s compromise, isn’t it? It happens in every relationship,”

Sarah was quiet for a while and seemed to be contemplating. Eventually, Sarah said, “yes. Compromise does happen in every relationship. But rarely at the expense of one’s mental health,” the word of caution was not lost on Kit, “you know yourself better than anyone,”

Kit nodded.

“Well, if there’s nothing else, that will be all for today’s session-“ Sarah began looking through her notes.

Kit glanced to the clock. He hadn’t realise it was over. Panicked, Kit blurted, “do you think-“ he paused when Sarah blinked, surprised. With her eyes on him, Kit could not find it in himself to speak all of a sudden. Sarah fell silent and waited patiently. Licking his lips, Kit took a breath and said in an exhale, “do you think Milly will want to come watch my play?”

Sarah raised a brow.

“We promised each other years ago, to always watch each other’s work. To support each other,” Kit explained hastily.

“Did you invite her to come?” Sarah asked.

Kit nodded, glancing to his phone, “I did but she didn’t reply…” his voice trailed off, sounding small.

“Well,” Sarah peered at him with a twinkle, “then she’s kept you in suspense to see if she will show up,”

Kit nodded numbly as if he got the answer he was looking for. The unabated, creeping anxiety was telling. Taking a breath, Kit stopped himself from thinking too much as he blurted, “I think I wanted to speak to you about Milly because my play is starting soon… I don’t know what I will do or say to her if Milly does show up and watches my play…” Kit choked up, “And I don’t what I will do if she doesn’t…” he hunched, putting his hands between his knees and dipped his head to hide the tears welling up.

“I don’t normally tell my clients what to do…” Sarah sighed and at the strange tone of defeat in her words, Kit peered up at her, hopeful, “but,” her eyes still held that twinkle, “if I were you, and Milly, my best mate in the whole world, doesn’t show up, I will be kicking her door in for breaking that promise,”

Kit paused. It was indeed strange for him to get a direct advice on what to do from Sarah. But at the thought of the look on Milly’s face when he does indeed kick her door in, Kit barked a laugh. Feeling ready to leave, Kit stood from the sofa, “thank you,”

“No problem. It was a good chat, Kit. Feel free to schedule another time with my assistant,” Sarah smiled. Kit nodded and turned to leave, “oh yes,” Kit paused, turning back around to see Sarah rummage in her drawer and retrieve a small brown bottle, “I use this scent in my office. I noticed you seem to like this scent. You seem different, relaxed on days when my assistant put this in the diffuser,” she handed it to him, “thought I would give you an extra bottle, to wish you luck for your upcoming play,”

Kit took it curiously. It was lavender scented oil.

A shuddering breath of realisation left him and he looked at Sarah to see a knowing look in her eyes and sad smile on her lips, “good luck,”

“Thank you,” Kit managed, his voice strangled before he fled out of the office and clinic, clutching the bottle.

* * *

 

_May 2016, Duke of York’s Theatre_

Kit stared at the bag of Haribo on his table.

“Kit? Are you listening?”

He blinked and turned to his side to see Rose. She was peering up at him curiously.

She chuckled and reached up, cupping his cheek, “are you alright, darling? You’re so out of it. Nervous?” she teased.

Kit forced a smile, “I’m fine,”

“It’s alright to be nervous you know. I won’t laugh,” Rose grinned.

“I’m good, really,” Kit glanced to the Haribo on his table, “thank you, for being here,”

Rose shook her head, dismissing his thanks gently and craned her neck up to him, seeking a kiss. He pecked her on her lips chastely. Her arm snaked around his neck, pulling him closer for a deeper kiss. Kit chuckled, gently pulling away, “no,” he heard Rose whisper before both her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling his lips back to hers. She kissed him hungrily and Kit grunted, grasping her tiny waist to him. They were both almost out of air by the time Kit pulled from her. He felt her grin as she nuzzled her nose into his neck, pressing a kiss to his adam apple, “better?”

“A little,” Kit lied through his quickly tightening throat. He stroked Rose’s waist before gently pushing her away. Then he turned to his table. He daren’t believe it even as he stared down at the huge packet of Happy Cherries on his table. ‘ _For luck. Love, your biggest fan’_. Kit could still remember the handwriting, the words on the note that previously accompanied one such packet. His hands, already cold from the nerves of being on stage again, were beginning to shake as he reached for the Haribo. He turned it over but there was no note on it this time.

“Who is this from?” Kit heard Rose ask over his shoulder. Her hands settled on his hips as she leaned on his back, “strange to gift to give… sweets,” Rose thought out loud.

 _My favourite sweet…_ “Don’t know,” he mumbled. _Is she here?_ Holding the bag of Haribo tightly, Kit turned and walked to the door. Rose let him go and watched him cross the room, puzzled. He opened the door and popped his head out into the corridor. Everyone was walking briskly up and down in preparation. The show was about to begin. When a stage assistant passed, Kit asked, “Joe, sorry to bother, do you know where this came from?” he glanced to the packet of Haribo he clutched in his hand.

Joe frowned for a moment, trying to recall. Then his eyes lit up in remembrance, “oh, Jan said a fan handed it to her for you,” _she’s here…_

His heart skipped a beat. _I need to know for sure. “_ May I check the attendance for the VIP guest list?”

“Sure…” Joe raised a brow in puzzlement but he dug for his phone nonetheless.

“Sorry, just need to see if I will have an extra ticket…” Kit murmured the lie as he stare at Joe scrolling on his phone. _It must be her… who else would it be? She’s a fan; my biggest fan._ Kit felt a smile tease his seemingly permanently frowning lips.

“Here you go,” Joe handed him his phone with a list on it. It was being updated as the tickets are claimed at the counter. Kit took it eagerly and could feel his hand trembling in anticipation as he scrolled the list. Most of the tickets were already claimed; his guests seated. He came to her name, his breath catching at the sight of it.

The vacant checkbox beside it was like a stone on his chest, making it hard to breathe in an instant.

“Thanks Joe…” Kit said numbly as he handed him back the phone.

“No worries mate,” Joe patted his shoulder. Kit nodded, forcing a smile but judging by the look on Joe’s face, he failed to. Kit turned to head back into his changing room.

Rose was sitting at his dressing table, “it’s upsetting you know,” Kit made a mild noise of acknowledgement as he stared down at the bag of Haribo, “you have a photo of Jack, and your parents and your mum…” Kit’s thumb brushed the packet before he opened it eagerly, “and where is your girlfriend, Mr Harington?” Kit blinked, looking up as Rose said loudly.

Her eyes were glinting in amusement as she stared at him. Kit shrugged, “on my mind,”

Rose laughed, “oh really? Cheeky bugger,” she stood from the chair as Kit dug into his snack. She plucked the piece of gummy from between his fingers and daintily popped it into her mouth, “and is my boyfriend now five years of age?”

Kit shot her an indignant look, “it tastes good,”

Rose chuckled, “alright, break a leg tonight. You’ll be perfect,”

 _No I won’t._ Kit smiled, “thanks,”

Rose held his face between her hands and pressed a kiss to his lips. Wishing she’d scuff his beard, Kit nuzzled his cheek into her hand but she doesn’t. She has never scuffed his beard like he so wanted. Then her hands left his face. She kissed him once more on his cheek before she hugged him. Then Rose left to take her seat in the theatre.

Kit stared at the closed door for a moment too long. He felt his heart pound heavily against his ribcage, his every breath thundering in his ear. He tried to take deep, slow breaths like his therapist taught but the stone on his chest made it almost impossible to him in that moment. He shut his eyes tightly.

And all he felt was the weight of the packet in his hand.

He allowed his eyes to open a crack. Chuckling bitterly at the half opened packet in his hand, he reached a trembling hand in it to bring a piece of gummy to his mouth. He chewed it methodologically. Reciting the lines in his head, Kit went through the packet.

By the time he was cued to make his way behind the curtains, his hand has stopped trembling. The light was blinding to him and Kit threw himself whole heartedly into his character. A glance into the audience, as he projected his lines passionately into the hushed silence, threw him off.

He glimpsed Rose, smiling at him. And he glimpsed probably thousands of eyes watching him quietly. But he didn’t see them, not really. He only saw the two burgundy seats down the middle; empty.

Kit felt a shuddering breath leave him and his eyes slipped shut momentarily as the emptiness sank right into his gut.

* * *

“YOU WERE PERFECT!”

Kit blinked, taken aback as Rose threw herself into his arms. Every fibre of his being objected to that simple, sweeping statement but Kit knew she meant well, “thank you,” was all he could manage, his arms frozen by his sides as she hugged him. She sniffed and pulled away, as if remembering herself. Kit smiled tightly at her, “you’re heading off?” she was going off to have a meal with her mates since he was going to join the cast for a small celebratory dinner after their first run to members of the public.

“Yes,” Rose grinned. She looked at him a moment longer before she grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him firmly to her so their lips met. She grimaced as they pulled away, “you have had way too many Haribos,”

Kit laughed, “there’s no such thing,” he tightened his arm around her shoulders in a hug momentarily before he let her go. In the yellow night light of the street, her blue eyes were almost green. Rose suddenly pecked him on his chin and Kit blinked, startled.

She chuckled, “have fun tonight but not too much fun without me,” Kit nodded, smiling, “call me when you get back,”

He nodded again, waving as she crossed the road to get a taxi. Kit watched her taxi depart before he turned to head back to the theatre to meet up with the rest of the cast and crew. He hunched his head when he glimpsed a group of men walking towards him in the opposite direction, clutching programmes of his play. His heart was nearly bursting from how fast it was pounding as Kit neared them. Kit retreated even deeper into himself, hiding his face as he muttered a prayer not to be recognised. He has already signed autographs and took all the photos with fans who waited at the backstage door.

As he passed them, he heard one of them enthused, “what a fucking night. A photo with Jon Snow and an autograph from the Khaleesi,”

Kit froze on the spot, earning disapproving clicks from people who has had to walk around him.

“What? Are you kidding me? What’s she like?”

“She refused to take a photo but offered to sign on something. She’s real fit, mate. Little but yeah, gorgeous,”  

Their voices faded as they got further from him.

Kit turned to see their retreating backs. Mechanically, his feet turned him around and Kit jogged to catch up to them, all thoughts of avoiding them forgotten. He patted one of them on the shoulder when he caught up, “’scuse me,” he muttered, “you mentioned Khaleesi? E-Emilia Clarke?” he blurted as they blinked at him like several deers caught in headlights.

“Yeah,” one of them managed to say.

“Where?” he demanded.

“She was just leaving the theatre,” his heart didn’t dare to sing. Not yet.

“Which one?”

They frowned at him like he was mental, “Duke of York’s, mate.”

He almost laughed then, “did you see where she went?”

“She hopped into a taxi…” they looked genuinely concerned for his mental health by this point but Kit was beyond caring about that.

He was already grinning from ear to ear, “alright, thank you,” they waved and continued on their way. Kit stood at the same spot for a long moment, digesting what he has just learned. _She was here, she was watching the play. She came to watch, like she promised she would._ Feeling lighter than ever, Kit did laugh then. He spun on his heels and walked briskly back into the theatre, his head held high. At the entrance, he was stopped by a couple of fans. He greeted them with a smile, took a few photos and signed their tickets.

His grin was still etched to his face when he came back to his changing room. His table was littered with bouquets of flowers. He went to them and read each one of the cards. Then a huge bouquet of red roses on a bed of white pink Peruvian lilies caught his eye.

Kit gazed down at the bouquet. He remembered the look of it like the 14th of February 2011 was just yesterday. And he remembered the look on her lovely face when he had presented it to her.

He had been unbelievably nervous to give it to her despite spending an hour at the florist, choosing the right flowers for the bouquet that he insisted was custom-made for him. Peruvian lilies, he was told, are a symbol of devotion; it’s a promise to always be there. And red roses are an unmistakable expression of deep love, longing and desire. The roses were darker than the ones he chose.

Tears welling up in his eyes, Kit dipped his head and took a whiff of the flowers. Turning the card to him, he saw that it was typed, not handwritten:

**You are extraordinary tonight. Absolutely unforgettable.**

It wasn’t signed. Kit read the card again and again. The words were generic, unassuming but they were hers and Kit clung onto every word.  

His thumb traced the sharp edge of the card as Kit relished in the heartfelt reassurance the words brought him.

Placing the bouquet down on the table, he stood and went to the door. He bumped into his cast mate in the corridor, informing them he would be heading off early to have an early night and would give their supper a miss. They were understanding and patted him heavily in praise. Kit had grinned to them as he took off from the theatre. Hopping into a taxi, Kit gave an address he knew by heart by now but did not visit enough to justify the commitment of it to memory.

He paid and thanked the driver before alighting. Her neighbourhood was as peaceful as ever and Kit could smell Hampstead Heath. He gazed off into the distance, longing to take a lengthy quiet walk there one day. Then he turned and marched up the path to her home, wielding a sort of steely determination that he could not fathom even just this morning.

Her curtains were drawn tightly. Kit knocked on her door. He waited and listened but there was no sound from within. He knocked again, louder this time.

It was quiet.

Then he thought he heard a quiet rustling from within. It could have been the wind, it could have been his imagination. It could be her dog she sometimes had over. Kit took a step closer to the door regardless and knocked.

“Clarke,” he called, knocking again, “I know you’re home,” he said, quieter this time, “I know you were at the play.”

He swallowed heavily as he found himself still staring at the cold hard surface of her closed door.

“But I don’t know why you won’t open this door,” he hated the way his voice wavered, “I don’t know why you won’t reply my messages,” he pushed against it with his palm as if the door will swing open, “I don’t know why you would refuse to see me,” then he heard a thud from within. It wasn’t loud but it was there. Kit fisted his hand against the door, coming up closer to it, “Milly. Please. Why won’t you come out and talk to me?”

 

**Emilia**

She was biting into her wrist so hard through her jumper it was starting to hurt. Her cheeks were long drenched with salty tears, as was the collar of her jumper. She drew a shaky breath before she muffled her gasps of breath into her arm.

Her eyes slipped shut as she half-heartedly willed him away. The sight of their passionate embrace and sweet kiss burned into the back of her swollen eyes. They loved each other and she felt happy for him, truly. She was happy he had someone who loved him like he deserved to be loved and someone he loved. But that joy she felt for him did not stop the pain that racked her so completely she had collapsed at the foot of her sofa the moment she returned home.

Kit’s knocking ceased eventually and it was quiet.

In the complete silence of her home, she could hear his retreating footsteps. She listened until she could no longer hear him. Wiping her tears on the sleeve of her jumper, a shuddering breath left her body completely deflated and exhausted. She could still smell the hospital on her jumper. She had worn this jumper to accompany her dad for his treatment before she had sent him home and rushed down to watch Kit’s play.

The play was truly extraordinary to watch. Hunched in her seat, hoping he couldn’t see her from the stage, she had spent the time gazing at him from afar, in awe. Though she could see the split seconds he had faltered, suddenly unsure of himself, he had always picked himself back up before anyone else could notice. He threw himself so completely into that incredibly exhausting role and Emilia felt immensely proud of him.

She has fled the theatre the moment the curtain called, not wanting to be recognised and risk robbing the limelight of the play in the tabloids the next day. And she did not want Rose to see her. She did not want to upset Rose and drive another wench in their relationship. The last time that happened, it almost broke Kit.

Emilia has never seen Kit so weary and anxious when he came to her. She had tucked him in her own blanket the next morning when she found him curled up on her sofa. She had watched him sadly as he slept, gazing at the bags under his eyes and the lines on his face. He had smelled of cigarettes and she knew then something was very wrong. True enough, when she spoke to him once he woke, he had told her he has had a huge row with Rose, over her.

Looking at Kit then, watching him agonise over his insecurities and anxieties, Emilia swore she would never again put him through that. So she had suggested for him to seek professional help for his anxieties from her own therapist; expediting his first appointment by calling the clinic to ask as a personal favour. Then Emilia did her part; slowly fading into the background to allow Rose’s and his relationship to mend. And it did. Their relationship went public at the Olivier Awards and pictures of them, enamoured by the other, plastered front pages of tabloids that week.

Emilia could still remember how proud she was when she saw him take the steps towards to the clinic by himself. She wanted to accompany him but did not want the friendly receptionist to greet her warmly and give Kit a clue that she has been going there too. So Emilia opted to watch him from across the street. She watched him hesitate. Emilia understood; it wasn’t easy to get help. She was about to text him to give him the final push when she spotted Rose.

She watched, her heart wrenching and choking her as Rose came to stand beside him. Rose had slipped her hand into Kit’s, as Emilia wanted to; Rose had kissed him gently, as Emilia wanted to, very much; Rose had took those very steps alongside him into the clinic, the ones Emilia wanted to take with him.

Emilia realised when they disappeared into the clinic that all that she wanted didn’t matter at all.

_Kitten matters. And he is going to be alright._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Haribo references back to the Second Verse: Chapter 16 (the Vote).  
> The flowers references back to the First Verse: Chapter 11 (Valentines).  
> Note: a deep red rose (not just red) also conveys heartfelt regret and sorrow. 
> 
> WE ARE HERE! The last verse to the story of Kit and Emilia. Started this first chapter with a (dark) inside look into how Kit perceives the First and Second Verse and where the characters are now - partially also for any readers who decides to pick this story up from here. Hope readers of the previous verses will enjoy it nevertheless. 
> 
> This verse will be when I will bring them on my own version of the story simply because I decided that it is pretty crazy to continue to follow their lives like some stalker. So prepare yourselves; this story will not be as true to the facts at some point onwards (sorry to those who are reading because of the realism this story provides). If you want to know the direction this story is headed, read the lyrics quoted in the summary for a clue ;) I am super excited and I hope you guys are too:) 
> 
> For those who have stuck with this story from the First Verse, tolerated the Second Verse, THANK YOU SO MUCH! I hope I don't disappoint and if I do, in TRUE Daenerys fashion, I hope you can just tell that to my face (in the comments but constructive please).  
> For those who are just picking up this story from this Last Verse, that is fine too :) Welcome :)  
> I just want to put it out there that I do welcome all comments but please be RESPECTFUL when commenting since this is a RPF and comments can get offensive rather quickly. That being said, all constructive criticisms and healthy debates are welcomed.
> 
> All in all, I hope you enjoy the ride and if you've read the entire note of me rambling, THANKS!


	2. Read-through

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On July 10th, her father – whose behind-the-scenes work got her interested in acting in the first place – passed away from cancer. Clarke was filming a movie in Kentucky and unable to be home for all of his final days. When things got dire, she wrapped the movie early but arrived at the airport in London to learn that she’d just missed him. Three weeks after her father’s death, Clarke began filming the seventh season of Game of Thrones. “The world felt like a scarier place once my dad wasn’t in it,” she says. 
> 
> \- Emilia Clarke (Rolling Stones, June 2017)

_August 2016, Titanic Studios, Belfast, Northern Ireland._

**Kit**

His stomach was churning as he walked into Titanic studios in Belfast. Today was the script read-through for season 7 of Thrones. Kit had been an hour early for his flight to Belfast. Rose had pulled him to her for a deep kiss in the middle of the airport. His entire face, neck and probably chest had burned in embarrassment but Rose only laughed. He smiled at her tightly as her eyes darted between his and over his face, as if she was trying to memorise his face.

Kit knew the meaning behind the look in her eyes, the way her lips were turned down, the firm grip she had on his arms. Rose dreaded the beginning of the filming of Season 7. They both knew why but both of them have been silent about it. When she did bring it up, she would instead comment on how long they would be separated and reminded him of their 2 weeks rule: they were not to go without seeing the other for more than 2 weeks. When Kit told her that his filming schedule this season would not allow him to drop by to see her every 2 weeks, it would lead to an argument between them.

It was always ugly.

It started with them trying to work out their respective schedules but ended with Rose hurling accusations at him and Kit removing himself from the conversation when he found himself flying into rage. It was only one time but Kit had broken a mug in one such argument and at the look of fear in Rose’s eyes, Kit had fled the scene; terrified of who it was arguing with Rose, of who he had apparently become. He had smoked until the stench of cigarette was almost foreign to him; until he coughed so badly his chest began to hurt. Kit found himself wishing he had something stronger than cigarettes those times.

_You don’t care. You don’t care about us, you never have!_

Rose had spat at him once and Kit did not know if it was the things Rose said when she got angry or her tone or just the look on her face when they argued but it angered and frustrated him greatly.

But on hindsight, now in Belfast, Kit wondered if the knowledge that Jon and Daenerys would meet this very season has contributed to Rose’s extreme reaction to his departure. He supposed it could be but he did not want to bring it up anyhow. They were in a good place with regards to that issue: Rose has accepted that his best mate will always be important to him. _She has accepted it… she wouldn’t be with me if she hasn’t; would she?_

Then Kit wondered if he has been right in telling Rose what was happening in Season 7 when she had asked teasingly. He had asked her why she wanted to know and Rose teased that she was a huge fan of the show. Kit rebutted that a true fan probably doesn’t want to be spoiled. He had pissed her off then too by saying that so Kit had told her everything, save letting her read the script. She didn’t yell at him but had stalked off quietly and left him confused. In Kit’s experience, that only showed she was even angrier than before he told her.

The night before his flight, Rose had woken him abruptly with a passionate, rough kiss and wandering hands. She had peppered his neck and chest with sweet but sharp nips and firm kisses. Then she crawled onto him so quickly Kit barely had time to slip a condom on. She rode him until he came and even after. Bewildered, the pain came soon as did the panic that the condom might slip off of him and leak. She only stopped when he had pushed her off of him forcefully. Afterwards, Rose had snuggled up to his side, quiet. He wanted to talk to her but when he turned to her, she was already sleeping.

Rose was silent and distant even as she clutched his hand in hers the whole way to the airport. Kit felt he should talk to her and find out what was wrong but realised he did not want to. He simply wanted to say his goodbyes and be on his way to Belfast. Nonetheless, he had reciprocated her hug and kisses and replied her whispers of love. There was no reason to part on bad terms.

Kit’s fingers twitched to retrieve his phone from his bag to see if Rose has texted him but he resolved not to, until later. He told himself he did not want to be distracted by her messages during the read-through. Kit came into the long conference room to be greeted by quite a number of cast mates who were already there.

He laughed, releasing John to greet Liam with a hug.

That was when he saw her.

His stomach dropped when he realised instantly that something was wrong.

She was sitting between Iain and Nathalie. She was smiling at Nathalie who held one of hand between both of hers. There was something sad in her smile. Her eyes, usually sparkling with life and energy, were downcast and there was a hollowed look in them as she gazed down at hers and Nathalie’s hand. Nathalie said something to her and Emilia’s smile widened just so, looking uncomfortably tight. He watched her lips move as she replied Nathalie, fighting to keep the smile on her face.

Kit didn’t realise Liam has released him from the hug until Liam pulled away, squeezing his shoulder, “how are you and the missus?” Liam asked teasingly. From across the room, her eyes lifted and found his immediately. That was what told Kit she knew of his entrance, having not had to search for him. Her face was strangely expressionless even when she met his eye.

Liam patted his back and forcing his gaze from her, Kit met Liam’s, “we’re not getting married anytime soon,” Kit replied loudly.

“But eventually?” Gwendoline shouted, “we saw it all in the tabloids,” she cheered and hoots from cast around the table started.

Kit’s face warmed and he instinctually sought out the one face that could comfort him. He froze. She was laughing as she glanced around at their cheering cast mates. Turning away, he forced a smile, flipped Gwendoline off before sinking into the seat between John and Lena. When all the cast involved has arrived, the read-through began.

He glanced across the table when she read her lines with Conleth. Her petite frame was hunched over as she read from the script. Her hands were somewhere under the table and if Kit had to guess, tucked under her thighs. She was always afraid of the cold. Her black thick rimmed glasses perched lower on her nose than they should be and Kit wanted to help her fix it so bad but it was neither appropriate nor possible from where he was sitting. She delivered her lines perfectly, experimenting with various tones.

Kit felt his throat tightened with anticipation as they flipped the pages to the scene in which Jon meets Daenerys for the first time. Kit imagined Jon would be completely entranced by her in that first moment; as he was, and still is, by Emilia.

David read the stage direction of said scene in the script, “Jon can’t help but stare at Dany, though. He had no idea she’d look like that. She’s cute as a bug!” There were a few fond chuckles around the table at that line but Kit only saw how Emilia’s cheeks turn a lovely shade of red and how she avert her eyes from everyone else’s in the room.

She never could bear a compliment like she could an insult. Kit marvelled at how years of global success and fame has not changed her one bit; she was still the Emilia who didn’t think she was beautiful or any good at acting. The thought of it tugged at his heart, pulling it nearer to her. And with each passing moment he spent in her presence, his heart covered the distance they have painstakingly been putting between them.

He glimpsed Nat’s hand shift under the table, presumably nudging her for Emilia looked at Nat from the corner of her eye without lifting her chin and grinned at her. Kit felt his lips twitch at the sight of her grin.  

“Thank you for travelling so far my Lord,” her eyes rose from the script suddenly to meet his. Behind her glasses, Kit could see the twinkle of amusement in her blue-gold eyes, “I hope the seas weren’t too rough,”

Kit felt a small smile grace his lips at the soft tone of her sweet voice. It was the first he has heard her voice for months. Silence fell over the room and Kit blinked and glanced down to his script before meeting her eye again to reply her, a stark delay, “the winds were kind, your Grace,” Kit heard a few snickers around the table at his slow response. Liam then continued and the scene played out. All the while through the scene, Kit’s stomach was doing backflips as the reality that he would be working with Emilia and sharing scenes with her this very season sank in. He knew how amazing an actress she was and how much she provided to her co-stars in shared scenes. He was a mess of sweet anticipation, nauseating nervousness and sheer excitement and felt incredibly lucky, honoured. _For fuck’s sake, this is only the read-through._

David then read the stage direction of Dany’s thought with a glint in his eyes, “maybe he’s not as dumb as he looks, Dany thought,”

The cast roared with laughter as David and Dan took the piss out of Kit in the script, again. Emilia glanced to them and chuckled weakly while Kit rolled his eyes. Despite that, a smile etched itself onto his face. _I’m going to work with her… I’m really going to share a scene with her._

 _Isn’t it only yesterday that we were talking about this very moment? Do you remember?_ Kit thought to her as he gazed at her lovely face that, Kit thought, looked the same as the year he first met her. Emilia’s eyes glanced to and stayed on his and Kit could see the huge wave of emotion this scene sparked in her as it did in him. _She remembers, even if it is years ago._ Kit smiled and she returned it, with her own gentle smile.

_“Y’know… Alan might have mentioned to me that George hinted that Jon and Dany would meet,” Emilia said._

_Kit blinked and straightened, “what?!”_

_She laughed, glancing sideways to him, “didn’t you read the books?”_

_“I did but George hasn’t written that and-“ Kit froze as the information manifested in his head, “did he say what would happen after?”_

_Emilia shook her head, smiling at him._

_Kit groaned and buried his face in his hands, “wow…” he muttered as he thought, “I mean,” he glanced to her, “I sort of guessed it when I was reading but… it has never been confirmed…” he gazed at her in awe._

Looking at her now, Kit could not fathom how he had lived the past couple of months without having her in his life. She had kept herself from him and the reason was less important to him than the fact that she was sitting across the table from him, looking at him. In this moment, Kit felt like he has gotten her back and his heart sang like it hadn’t in a long time.

Kit tried to remain focussed on the page before him but everything she did caught his eye and he reacted instinctively to her. Her little sneeze jolted her entire body and Kit glanced about, looking for the control to the air-conditioning before very naturally rising to turn it down. She reached for the bottle of water and Kit decided he needed one too, rolling her one bottle across the table before taking his own. She coughed softly and Kit decidedly took a sip of water. She glanced over at him before seeming to mirror his action rather naturally, taking a sip from her own bottle. She smiled, her eyes on the script as she presumably read a funny line. Kit smiled as well, trying to figure out where they were on the script and wondering what she was reading that was funny.

* * *

“He’d like to keep looking at her, and forget about the world events weighing on his soul,” Kit was mildly aware of Dan reading the script aloud in the background as Emilia folded her arms before her on the table. Her fingers were flushed and Kit wondered if she was warmer now, “but that’s just not the kind of guy he is,” Kit glanced up and paused when he met Lena’s eye. She smiled at him meaningfully before she looked down to the script without saying anything. She saw him looking across the table at Emilia, Kit knew.

Then they read another scene in which Dany had just returned from a battle on dragon back. Kit remembered how his heart had lodged itself in his throat as he had read how the bolt of the scorpion has found its way into Drogon’s wing and how Dany and Drogon both spiralled to the ground. He wasn’t surprised when he read in the next scene that Jon has stood, waiting endlessly, for her return on the edge of the cliff; Kit would have done the same and didn’t expect any less of Jon.

* * *

“She opens her mouth to speak but only tears come – the tears she has held at bay until now, because people were watching, and she still has hope. Here with Jon and only Jon, she lets go of hope and poise, and weeps,” David read.

Across the table, Emilia has tears welled up in her eyes that she had refused to let fall. Kit noticed them welling up when they were reading the fight in which Jon was overwhelmed by wights and has fallen through the ice, forcing Dany to leave him behind. He wished he was sitting beside her. He wanted to comfort her. He wasn’t sure if he would, if he could, hold her hand but he wanted to; he wanted to tell her that Jon will be alright, even if he knew she could read it herself in the next page.

They read their lines to the scene between Jon and Dany sombrely.

As David read Jon’s feelings and thoughts, Kit’s eyes found their way to her. She was following the words as David read, “Jon has truly never seen a girl like this before. Her beauty, her strength, her grief and the pain it makes him feel…they all push him to the realization that he loves her.” Kit saw her hesitate, her chin tilting up but her eyes did not rise to meet his. Instead, she hastily turned the page prematurely, as if to busy herself. She does not look up across the table the remaining duration of the read-through apart from their scene at the dragonpit.

Kit swallowed and resolved to stay focussed on the script. That is, until they came to the scene of Bran’s vision of the past between Rhaegar and Lyanna. His eyes found the scene of Jon knocking on Dany’s door at the bottom of the page. His stomach twisted in anticipation and he flipped the page as Isaac read, “He loved her,” he looked across the table to catch her already looking at him. She blinked when he looked up and her gaze darted to the side, panic written all over her face. Kit pursed his lips against an amused smile, “and she loved him,” the edge of her lips twitched before she met his gaze, rather decidedly in his opinion.

Some cast members hooted and cheered as Dan read the part of Jon entering Dany’s room and the door closing. Kit tore his gaze from hers to look at Sophie and Maisie, both of whom were cheering. He chuckled at them before he looked down to the script.

“Dany and Jon, making love,” David grinned and looked to the respective actors. The casts burst into loud hoots and cheers, “Jon is on top,” Liam laughed and slapped his shoulder heavily. His face warmed and he glanced across the table to see that her cheeks were pink and growing increasingly red.

“Cleared it with the missus?” Dan asked, grinning. Kit rolled his eyes.

David glanced over him, “no broken limbs so I assume she’s fine with it,”

“Like you guys even care about my broken limbs,” Kit shot back hotly but David and Dan only laughed, nodding in agreement. Glancing up, Kit glimpsed her small smile but she was looking down at the script too intently.

The moment they completed the last page of the script, they clapped, for the producers and the writers. It was going to be an epic season which will bring unforgettable memories, Kit knew. As he stood from his seat to stretch, his eyes unwittingly sought out his reason for those unforgettable moments. She was carefully putting her script into her bag. Kit did the same before he slung it over his shoulder. He was ready to walk around the table to talk to her when he saw Lena with her.

Lena was holding both her hands gently and saying something to her in a low tone. Emilia’s head was hung low so Kit could not see the look on her face. Then Lena pulled her in for a firm hug. Kit felt a lump formed in his throat as he caught a glimpse of the anguished look on Emilia’s face before she buried her face into Lena’s shoulder. Her arms wrapped firmly around Lena as Lena hugged her while one of her hands brushed her hair.

Bewildered, Kit watched as Emilia pulled away from Lena and shook her head. She was fighting back tears and trying so hard to be strong. Kit’s heart wrenched and his worry for her grew, stifling him so he couldn’t seem to breathe.

“It’ll be alright,” he heard Emilia mutter. Lena nodded and offered an encouraging smile which Emilia tried her best to return.

Kit made his way to the end of the table where the door was when he saw Emilia make her way over there. He was grabbed by a couple of cast mates who were trying to catch up with him after not seeing him for months. He could only stare at Emilia slipped out the door quickly. He watched Nathalie follow her, relieved that she wasn’t alone while in this state. Mentally resolving to find her later and ask her what was wrong, Kit forced a bright smile on his face as he chatted with Daniel.

By the time Kit left the studios to hop into a van that will send them back to their hotel, it was almost time for dinner.

“Kit, want to go out for a drink?” John asked, “Joe and I are heading for dinner and then some drinks,” Joe grinned at him from beside John.

Kit knew they were expecting him to agree. He was always up for a drink. But Kit wasn’t feeling it this time, he was preoccupied with finding out what was bothering her and being there for her, “um, I’m a little tired from the flight,” Kit knew how stupid that sounded the moment he said it; it was an hour flight after all. Nonetheless, Kit continued, “I’ll probably turn in early tonight,”

“Oh,” Joe and John were both visibly surprised, “dinner then?” Joe asked.

“Nah,” Kit shook his head, feeling some guilt at giving it a miss, “you guys go ahead without me. I’ll join you guys next time,”

They exchanged a look before shrugging. They all alighted at the hotel and as the cast congregated in the lobby to decide where to go for dinner, Kit quietly made his way to the lift. That was when he felt a hand tap his shoulder. He turned, steeling himself to explain why he wasn’t going for dinner. It was Lena.

“Dinner?” she asked him.

Kit shook his head, “no thanks, I’m really tired. I think I will turn in for the night,” Kit adjusted his bag on his shoulder. Lena smiled, nodding and Kit returned the smile before he turned from her. But before he could walk away, Lena spoke up again, “do you know which room she’s in?”

Kit paused. Chuckling, he turned back to see Lena’s knowing look, “no,” Kit admitted, realising only now.

“729,” Lena said, “don’t tell her I told you that,” she winked.

Kit laughed, “thanks Lena,” he was about to turn from her.

Lena spoke again, “she wants to talk to you,”

 _And I want to talk to her._ His heart skipped a beat, beating shallowly in longing, “did she tell you that?” Kit asked.

“No,” Lena chuckled, “of course not but judging from the way she looks at you during the read-through-“

Kit’s severely raised brow made her laugh. He hadn’t noticed her looking but only noticed himself staring at her from across the table, “we haven’t spoken in a while…” Kit muttered, “that’s all,”

Kit was puzzling over the sympathetic look in Lena’s eyes when she patted his shoulder, “get your arse over to her. She needs her Kitten, now especially,”

He ignored Lena’s little tease of his nickname, “what happened?” Kit asked but Lena rolled her eyes and nudged him towards the lift. Kit stumbled a little but made his way over. Worry urged him to take longer strides and he hurriedly jammed his hand in between closing doors of a lift, “sorry,” he muttered as he hit the button on the 7th floor. He waited impatiently but it seemed all too soon when he found himself staring at the number plate: 729.

 _What if Lena’s wrong and she doesn’t want to talk to me?_ Kit swallowed. _What if she doesn’t answer?_ He gazed down at his feet, his heart thudding with dread. Nonetheless, the thought of her alone in a place she did not call home, crying, made him knock. There wasn’t a sound. Kit swallowed his disappointment with the lump in his throat. _Milly… is this how we are going to be? Me and a closed door?_ Kit knocked again, “Clarke, it’s me,”

He heard footsteps and Kit held his breath. The handle of the door was lowered before the door was pulled open.

Kit looked into her blue-gold eyes. Her glasses were removed and she looked immensely tired. Kit’s heart wrenched and he wanted to pull her into his arms. He wanted to take her pain away this instant and assure her that he would make everything right for her. He parted his lips to try to speak only to realise his mouth was dry, “hi,” he croaked.

She smiled, “hullo,” her eyes darted behind her momentarily.

Kit froze when he realised she might not be alone in the room as he had thought. He felt a sting but shifted his weight from one leg to another and wringed his fingers to hide it, “is this a bad time?” he asked.

Emilia shifted uncomfortably as well as she glanced behind her into the room. Kit wondered idly if the person was getting dressed-

“No,” said the person from within the room. A woman.

“Nat,” Kit blinked. He wanted to laugh and slap himself at the same time. Nathalie left with her of course they were together and probably talking. Nathalie was one of Emilia’s closest friend and Kit has probably gone and interrupt them when Nathalie was trying to comfort her, “s-sorry to interrupt,” he stepped back, “I’ll come back later if-“

“No,” Nathalie smiled, “we’re done,”

He glanced to see Emilia hiding a smile as she turned to Nat. They hugged and Kit averted his eyes as he held the door open for them.

“Take care, although,” Nat pulled away, “Kitten will do a good job I’m sure,” Emilia choked out a laugh. Kit met Nat’s eye, thoroughly embarrassed by that nickname. His face burned as did his ears and neck. They exchanged cheek kisses before Nathalie wedged past Kit in the doorway, “I’ll join the cast for dinner, Jacob is waiting downstairs, feel free to join us,” Nat told both of them. At a smile and nod from Emilia, Nat left.

They both watched her walk down the corridor. When she turned the corner and disappeared, Kit turned to her as she did to him. She was closer than he had thought but neither of them made to step back from the other. Instead, she gazed up at him through her lashes and a shuddering breath left him involuntarily, “how have you been?” Kit asked quietly.

A strained, wan smile stretched her lips and his brows furrowed. Her eyes darted up to his furrowed brows before her own furrowed as well, “good,” Kit knew instantly she didn’t want him to worry. _She hasn’t changed one bit; always worrying about someone else and not allowing others to worry for her,_ “you?” she asked, so soft he could barely hear her.

“I’m worried,” he decided to tell her. He decided to be honest, hoping she would reward his honesty with her own, “about you,” her brows lifted in distress and she chewed on her bottom lip, “I can see that something is wrong; terribly wrong,” his eyes searched her face, “I can see it as plain as day on your face even if you tried to hide it,” his hands twitched to hold her face but he doesn’t. Instead, his hands rested on her shoulders. He tried not to be distracted by how they fit under his hands as he continued, “and yet, you won’t tell me. You continue to try to hide it and I’m worried, Milly,” he squeezed her shoulder beseechingly, “I’m worried…”

Kit knew it was cruel to do this to her. He was trying to make her open up for his benefit since she seemed entirely incapable of doing something for the sole benefit of herself. And in the process, he knew he has put her in an agonising position. Her brows twisted and her eyes welled with tears, “I know I can never hide anything from you,” despite everything, her lips curled into a small smile, “I could never lie anyway,”

Kit barked a laugh, “still,” he feigned a sigh of disappointment, “but yes, you never could,” his hands found his way to her jaw nevertheless. He felt the delicate curve of her jaw, letting his thumbs brush her cheek.

“I’m sorry,” her eyes melted into soft pools of blue and gold, “for trying to anyway and making you worry,” Kit shook his head, chuckling at how determined she was not to be a bother to him, of all people; her supposed best mate. It sounded ridiculous to Kit. She gazed up at his wistful smile, encouraging her. He could’ve sworn he felt her lean her cheek into his hand for a split second, blinking for a moment too long. When her eyes met him next, her lips parted and a shuddering breath left her, "it’s my dad…” she choked on her words and tears trailed down her cheeks. Kit caught every one of them on his thumbs, “he passed,”

His stomach sank. The weight on his chest was suffocating, weighing on his heart as it did on his lungs. The words and the broken look in her eyes chilled him to the bone, “oh Milly,” he croaked. She gazed up at him through her tears and Kit only realised he was crying too when she emitted a wet chuckle and reached her hands up to wipe his tears from his cheeks, “I’m so s-sorry,” his voice hitched as he swallowed a sob.

She forced a smile through her tears before her gaze fell to his chest. A moment of hesitation passed before he felt her hands on his chest. She took a step and buried her face into his chest. Kit froze a long while before his arms found their place on her body. It was so familiar to hold her and yet, so very foreign at the same time. He leaned and melted against her as she did onto him. One arm fitted against and encircled her waist while his other hand came up to cradle the back of her head.

He felt her soft brunette hair under his fingers and was unable to help himself as he stole a breath of her scent, then a couple more. He pressed a kiss to her hair, then another.

She shifted and pulled her face from his chest. Kit let her, his hand lowering from the back of her head to the nape of her neck, “s-sorry…” she sniffed, “I ruined your shirt,” she rubbed at his chest, as if trying to get rid of the tear-stains.

 _No._ It was Kit’s first thought and he blurted out the rest of his thoughts, “you are _not_ to apologise for anything,” his tone was firm. She searched his face, quiet. He took in her watery eyes and visibly trembling lip and his heart ached, “it can be washed,” he told her softly. Her gaze darted down to the stains on his chest nonetheless and he ducked his head to catch her gaze again to ask her, “now, may I come in please?”

Emilia blinked and glanced around. As if noticing they were still standing in the doorway of her hotel room, she giggled loudly. Kit smiled, relishing in the sight of her small, now barely visible eyes behind her wide grin, her red snotty nose and her tear stained, flushed cheek. She stepped back and Kit matched every step of hers for one into her room.

She giggled before turning from him entirely and walking into her room. Kit chuckled, following her. Her room didn’t smell like her room and Kit knew it was because she has yet to use her pillow spray for the night or light any of her scented candles. He put his bag down by her bed and stood beside her, suddenly uncertain.

She was standing in the middle of her room, watching him. Her fingers were laced together in front of her before she unlaced them and stared at him. She smiled weakly when their eyes met, “if you want to sit…” her voice sounded tiny. She gestured to the sofa behind her before she sat tentatively. Kit chuckled, nodding.

Dropping heavily on the sofa beside her, Emilia startled when his weight almost jostled her entirely off the sofa, “Kitten!” she shrieked.

Kit laughed, putting his arm decidedly across the backrest of the sofa. He glanced sideways to her as she kicked off her slip-ons. Grinning, he reached down and grabbed both of her ankles. Emilia yelped when he pulled her legs into his lap and rest an arm across her legs, “alright Clarke, comfortable now?” she raised a brow, “ready to spill your guts out?”

Emilia paused before she chuckled, “what? To you? Dr Harington now is it?” Kit rolled his eyes, bordering on sticking his tongue out and blowing a raspberry at her, “going to therapy 3 times a week does _not_ make you a certified doctor,” she mocked a scowl.

Kit stared at her. _How did she… know?_ Emilia paused, her lips parting, when she realised what she has said and what he realised. _Has she been watching over me the whole time?_ Emilia averted his eyes and Kit eyed her slender throat bob as she swallowed heavily, “Milly…” he whispered. His hand found her knee and he gently squeezed it. She glanced to his hand on her leg and her brows rose momentarily, “where have you been these few months?” he asked her quietly.

She blinked, hesitating before she said, “I was… promoting a movie,” Kit knew that from tabloids: _Me before you, she is amazing in that,_ “I filmed another movie, I went for a holiday…” her voice trailed off and she stared down at her hands. Kit bit his lips, not sure what to do but stroke her ankles in encouragement and hopefully, some comfort. She has done this for him, the same day she asked him to get professional help. Her touch has pulled him from the darkness then. He only wished his touch could do the same for her, “Kitten…” she whimpered.

Kit furrowed his brows, sitting straighter.

She chewed her lip so hard Kit thought she’d draw blood, “I didn’t make it in time,” a sob ripped from her throat, “I-I was at the a-a-airport when- when…”

 _No…_ He reached for her as she did for him. Her arms snaked around his neck and she curled into herself, her knees up to her chest. Kit wrapped his arms around her and tugged and hoisted her into his lap. She felt so little when she buried her face into his neck. He could feel her hot tears searing a path across his skin and felt tears well up in his own eyes.

“It’s not fair,” she cried. Kit winced as if he has been struck each time her entire body shook with her gut-wrenching sobs, “it’s not fair…” she whimpered.

“It’s not,” Kit whispered thickly, brushing her hair and hugging her to him so tightly he supposed he was making it hard for both of them to breathe. But strangely enough, it has never felt easier to draw breath than now, with her curled up in his lap and pressed up against him firmly, “it’s not… I’m sorry,”

“I should have been there with him!” She sobbed, her voice muffled, “I should’ve thrown it all away to be there with him. Fuck work, fuck filming, fuck the movie!” her voice cracked and Kit held her, all the while trying to hold himself together, “he could’ve been asking for me, he could’ve been looking for me and I wasn’t there. I WASN’T THERE!” she made to pull away. Kit didn’t want to let her but the strength at which she did surprised him. She withdrew her arms from around his neck and before he could stop her, she slapped herself soundly across her tear-stained cheek, “I wasn’t there!”

He flinched, aghast. It felt like it was him she had slapped, “MILLY!” Kit snapped loudly. He grabbed her wrists, effectively stopping her.

“I wasn’t there,” she sobbed, struggling to pull her hands from him. He felt a sharp ache in his middle. Placing her arms over his shoulder, he hugged her head to his chest while he pulled her up against him with his other arm, “I wasn’t there, Kitten. I wasn’t there. I wasn’t there. I wasn’t there,” her hands, unable to reach herself, landed against his back. She wasn’t that strong to hurt him but Kit felt each strike that was meant for her, straight in his heart. She cried, flailed and pushed against him, trying to get away but Kit was stronger and eventually, landing hits on his back and kicking the arm of the sofa was all she could manage.

He felt her sobs and kissed her for each blow she landed across his back. Hysterical as she was, Kit doubted she felt them but it didn’t matter. Eventually, both her sobs and her arms weakened. When she leaned heavily against his chest and her arms fell limp by their sides, Kit dared to loosen his hold on her.

“No,” she whimpered weakly; a protest and Kit kept a firm arm across her back while the other went to her chin. His fingertips brushed her cheek where she has hit herself. He flinched when he glimpsed the reddened telling marks on her cheek. He curled his neck down to her and brushed his lips across her cheek as best as he can manage in this position. A soft, barely noticeable chuckle escaped her and he felt her nose rub against his beard. He chuckled with her, lingering a moment longer, soaking in the feel of her scuffing his beard however she can manage.

“Don’t do that to yourself again,” he whispered, “please don’t,” he placed a gentle hand on her neck, over her pulse point, “promise me,” she didn’t respond and Kit felt his anxiety rising, like a tightening noose around his neck, “Milly, promise me,” he choked out, “that no matter what happens, you will _never_ hurt yourself,” he said against her hair. She was quiet, almost lifeless in his arms but he knew she was awake; he could tell from the rise and fall of her breaths against him, “your father-“ a soft sob escaped her but Kit persisted, “I never knew him but I wish I did, truly. I wish I met the man who raised you, who taught you to be strong, to be hardworking, to be responsible, to be smart. I wish I met the man who loves you with all his heart just hoping it would teach you to love yourself just as much,” he pressed a feather-like kiss to her hair, “he wouldn’t have wanted you to ditch your job and leave the cast and crew waiting. He wouldn’t have wanted you to hurt yourself grieving for him,” Kit let his words sink in, knowing she was listening. He tried to blink away tears but they fell into her hair instead.

A long moment of silence passed before she shifted against his chest. Kit thought she would straighten from him but she didn’t. Instead, she adjusted herself, making herself comfortable before she croaked out, “Kitten, I’m scared,” the words chilled him to the bone and he trembled with the overwhelming urge to take that feeling away from her, anyway he can, “the world…” she whispered, “feels a whole lot scarier without my dad in it,”

“It probably is,” Kit admitted. He tightened his arms around her, hoping against hope that he could do something for her when he felt so powerless.

His heart fluttered when he felt her arm come up to hug his arm to her, “but right now,” he glimpsed that her eyes were closed, “it feels infinitely better,” his chest swelled. A beat passed before she whispered, "I promise, I won't hurt myself,"

Kit felt a smile tease the edge of his lips, “you are so great,” he whispered to her, over the top of her head, “do you know that? You are _so_ smart, _so_ talented and _so_ strong. The strongest person I know,” for the countless time, he pressed a kiss to her hair, “even if you don’t have to be. Even if it is okay to lean on someone else for a while,”

Emilia chuckled bitterly, “I leaned on one too many people these few months,”

“And that’s absolutely fine,” Kit told her, his voice ringing with honesty, “although, should I be jealous?”

For his attempt at teasing, he earned a, albeit watery, giggle. But a giggle it was, “jealous Kitten,”

“The only adjective the strongest person I know can find for me,” Kit lamented softly, not wanting to shatter this so very precious moment. She was so vulnerable now, Kit found he could only curl even more protectively around her. She chuckled, one that shook both of them, “I wish you would have told me sooner,” he told her, “I want to be there for you,”

“I know,” she replied gently, “but you have enough on your plate as it is. I-“

“ **Didn’t want to worry me** ,” Kit said with her, “fuck it,” he hissed and she giggled, “fuck that. I want to know. I want to be there for you,” she neither replied nor looked at him so Kit continued, “like you are always there for me, even if I don’t know it,” she tensed in his embrace and Kit took a breath and continued, “you were there, watching Dr Faustus,” it wasn’t a question.

She stared ahead blankly for a moment before a definitive nod followed. A knowing smile crossed his lips, “how did you know?”

“How many times?” Kit nudged her forehead with his bearded chin so she couldn’t dip her head even lower and hide her face in seemingly shame.

“How did you-“

“How many times?” Kit probed relentlessly.

She sighed, “twice,” she practically whimpered out in surrender.

“Liar,” Kit mocked a tone of accusation.

Her expression spelled out _fuck_ and Kit stifled a laugh as he watched her contemplate her answer, “six… or seven, I can’t remember,” Kit raised his brows so high then he didn’t think he could. _Fucking hell. You were there practically the whole time_ , “I mean it almost always sells out every night…” she grumbled, “it was so fucking hard to get tickets,”

“And yet, you didn’t collect the VIP tickets I left for you,” Kit commented airily. Emilia quietened down and Kit asked, “why is that?”

“I didn’t want you to know I was there,” she muttered.

“Why?” Kit frowned. She was so quiet that Kit was afraid the moment they shared has passed so he shared something of his own, “you gave me the Haribo,” he chuckled, answering her previous question regarding how he knew, “and the flowers, the same flowers I gave you before,” Emilia chuckled along with him then, “that… and I met a group of fans outside the theatre,”

Emilia paused before she recalled, “oh… the group of blokes,”

Kit nodded before he rested his cheek against the top of her head, “thank you, for being there,” peace washed across his entire body and Kit melted against her.

“I didn’t want Rose to get upset at you because of me again,” she told him, her voice small.

He frowned, “she wouldn’t- why would you even think that?”

Emilia hesitated only a moment before she replied, “you had a row with her over our past… and-“ she paused, shaking her head eventually.

“And?”

“I didn’t want to lead you on,” Emilia muttered.

Kit drew back, appalled. It didn’t sound like her words and he couldn’t fathom why she would think it, “you’re not. We’re-“ he blinked, swallowing, “best mates. We agreed, do you remember? We promised each other we would be there for each other, as best friends,” Kit croaked, “you can’t go back on that promise now,” he chuckled weakly, pleading with her not to. He honestly didn’t think he could make it if she were to make the choice to step out of his life entirely.

“Are we?” she leaned back from his spot on his chest so she could look up at him, “best mates?”

_Yes. If that is what it took for you to stay with me._

“Yes,” Kit forced that single syllable past his dry mouth.

A shuddering breath left her lips and Kit thought it could have been relief.

 

**Emilia**

She wished the moment could stretch on forever so she could spend it curled up in his lap, against his chest, with his arms around her and his scent enshrouding her from the pain in life.

“ _Yes,_ ” _we are just best mates. Nothing more._

It made her want to run away and hide so she could cry. But the desire to stay exactly where she was won over and Emilia let out a shaky breath to steady herself. She then hid her crumbling face against his chest, thinking: _do you remember the other part of our promise, Kitten?_

_When things settle a bit, when work is easier or when this industry tires of us. Maybe then… maybe then, we can give this another shot._

Then something on his neck, a mark, caught her eye and she gazed at it longer to realise what it was.

_If we’re both still… single, and if you still want to._

Emilia swallowed a sob as she shrank from the telling mark; it was glaring against his pale skin and mocking her. _He is neither single nor does he want to anymore._

Kit gazed down at her and she met his eye, hoping there weren’t tears in them, “hungry?” Kit smiled. She could only nod quietly, not trusting herself to speak, “we could…” his warm brown eyes twinkling. _Order room service,_ “order room service,”

She smiled as he literally took the words right out of her mouth – or rather, mind. Kit’s smile widened and Emilia traced the lines around his eyes as his eyes crinkled in his joy.

“Alright, fuck off now, my legs are numb,” Kit’s arms left her entirely and she obstinately leaned closer to him still, inwardly desperate to prolong this dying moment. He laughed, so heartily it rocked his broad frame. Then she felt his arms curl under her knees and behind her back. With a grunt, he lifted her off his lap and stood in one motion. She let her arm settle around his neck. She half-expected him to toss her on the bed, with the cheeky smile on his face. But he did not.

Instead, he put her down very gently on the bed and she hugged her knees to her chest.

“What would you like to have for dinner?” he asked, searching her eyes.

She savoured his gentle gaze before she replied, “pasta would be nice,” Kit thought on it a moment before he grinned and straightened.

“I’m guessing you want to shower while waiting for dinner,” Kit said, already halfway across her room to order room-service with the hotel phone, “go ahead, while I get our orders sorted,”

Her chin dropped to her folded arm across her knees as she watched him lean his hip against the table. She traced his broad, sturdy shoulders with her eyes as he leaned forward and reached for the phone. All the while, his warm eyes intently traced the menu on the table for a number to call. She watched a beautiful curl of his raven locks fall into his eyes and watched a flicker of annoyance past over his soft face. His meaty fingers came up to push his hair back, tucking it behind his ear, all too roughly in her opinion. He seemed to have found the number to call and he punched it into the phone. She listened to him make the order, his all-business deep velvet voice sounding like music to her ears as he ordered just the pasta she herself would’ve ordered, a steak for himself and a bottle of wine that would go perfectly with her pasta.

She was then reminded of years back, when they were filming the very first season. The night she, a little tipsy on wine, first called him Kitten. It was the same hotel, the same Kitten, the same Milly, both of them opting to order room service instead of joining the rest of the cast for dinner, he had comforted her that night as well and her heart stuttered for him the same, even then.

_Kitten._

She could have said it aloud. She didn’t know. Nonetheless, still on the phone, he turned to glance to her but his gaze stayed when he realised she was already looking at him. Searching his bright deep brown eyes, she wanted to tell him; to remind him of a part of the promise he seemed to have forgotten.

_Maybe then, we can be together._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reference to the Second Verse chapter 4 and the First Verse chapter 3 if any of you are interested. 
> 
> I am so overwhelmed with the comments for the previous chapter! Glad to know you guys are as excited as I am about this last stretch (I promise it won't be as disappointing as Season 8 lol, what could be more disappointing than that...btw if any of you have good jonerys fic that set things right to recommend for my therapy after the last episode, it will be welcomed)  
> I will go back and reply all the comments on the previous chapter in a while! In the meantime, do leave me a comment for this one (nothing encourages a writer to write like comments); love hearing which parts you guys liked the most :)


	3. Addiction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (photo in story)  
> Belfast you are shining for us this morning. #makessundayworkingthatmuchmoredoable #ormaybethatsthe17coffees #themotherofdragonssurewokeupthismorning  
> \- Emilia Clarke (Instagram, Oct 2016)
> 
> “Both of us were going, ‘Ahhh what are you doing on my set!?’” Clarke recalls.  
> The actress — who wears an elaborate blond wig on the series — joked about sharing the stage with her famously follicle-blessed costar: “This is weird!” she said. “There’s another Hair in town, and I don’t like it!”  
> \- Emilia Clarke (EW, Aug 2017)
> 
> Harington agreed: “We were both kind of freaking out,” and he even needed a bit of assistance recalling some key details of Dany’s storyline: “I asked Emilia what her dragons were called again.”  
> “Usually you start working on a movie and meet [a costar] for the first time and you develop chemistry on screen over time,” Harington said. “Here, you know somebody for seven years and you’ve watched their character on screen all that time. So it’s a unique experience as an actor to come together and know the world is watching.”  
> \- Kit Harington (EW, Aug 2017)

_Early October 2016, Belfast, Northern Ireland._

**Emilia**

It was warm. Not uncomfortably so but rather, the type that felt so comfortable it made going back to sleep all the more tantalising for her. Her body felt like dead-weight and impossible to move from her current position.

It was then she heard, and felt, a deep rumble of a snore. It was coming from what her head was propped up against. Turning her head towards the warm, solid mass, she took a breath of a heavy scent. She could detect the apple of his body soap but currently, she mostly smelled him without his cologne; a warm earthy scent coupled with clean laundry and, the new addition, cigarette.

It was evident to her in their time spent together since the read-through, to the Emmy after-party and now on their first day of principle photography that Kit smoked and drank much more than he used to. Smoking seemed to have become a habit for him. She noticed the way his fingers twitched for his cigarettes when it has been a few hours since his last stick. When Kit drank, he did so with an abandon, knocking back drinks after drinks even in the middle of a conversation. It broke her heart to see him like this but she did not want to force him to stop, knowing how much he struggled every day. So she tried to distract him and keep a smile on his handsome face, but no matter what she did, his hand always wandered in search of his pack of cigarettes or that glass of drink.

However, it didn’t escape her notice that Kit always made it a point to smoke in the smoking area, far away from her. He did not seem comfortable smoking with her there. She knew he must have his reasons but she could not help but feel his absence as if it weighed on every inch of the very air of the room she was in. She hated for him to leave, even for a second. So Emilia once suggested that he could smoke where they were and needn’t get up but he persisted in being excused and she could only watch him go sadly, feeling like he had taken a piece of her with him. But Emilia was also immensely worried for him in how much he was smoking and how he would always avert his eyes, glancing to her once or twice, before he would duck away hastily.

Apart from his time spent smoking, they were rarely apart since that first day of their read-through unless they were scheduled for rehearsals, costume fittings, at separate locations. Kit spent all of his breaks at her trailer and almost all of his nights at her hotel room. He never intended to stay the night the first few nights he did stay over; they always chatted till either one of them fell asleep and if it was her, she would always find herself tucked in and him beside her the next morning. Emilia couldn’t recall the exact night he made the conscious decision to sleep over but she remembered he had snuggled under the duvet of her bed as if it was his bed instead of sitting atop it, to chat.

They never did anything beyond talking, giggling and sometimes, if either of them looked like they needed it, they cuddled. Emilia has since gotten used to the addition of cigarettes in his musky morning scent. It had clung onto Kit’s warm skin even if he made it a point to shower and change his clothes after smoking, before bed. It was a part of him now and she liked the smell of him all the same. The snoring, however, Emilia was still trying to get used to. It did not wake her up or disrupt her sleep for she comes from a family of snorers but it has startled her on multiple occasions when she was just waking, having been used to waking to the quiet of a hotel room alone for much too long.

She missed her father every day but she wasn’t an oblivious fool; she knew Kit was worried for her and stayed by her side most times to keep her mind off it and cheer her up. Kit’s presence made it infinitely better for her however this time, even Kit could not completely heal her. They have spoken of this many times and she had cried and wiped her snot on his shirts all of those times. Each time, it ended with him whispering for her to give herself some time and promising he would be there for her. Through the bitter pain, he brought the light and coaxed smiles from her when she thought she would never smile again.

Sometimes, Emilia lay awake at night, cuddled close to Kit’s chest and warm belly, his arm around her, protecting her. For how scary the world has become, she felt safe. She thought that maybe, if her dad had a choice, he had chosen this time to go, just before the filming of season 7 of Thrones because he knew she would have wonderful people around her to support her; he knew she would have Kit, the only one who could save her and have saved her, more times than she ever saved him.

She shifted only to snuggle deeper into his warmth as she peered up at him. His long curly hair was spread across the white pillow, which she knew was lavender scented. She thought amusedly that her lavender pillow spray seemed to be doing more for him than it was doing for her. Kit had reminded her to put the pillow spray when she had forgotten to one night. She didn’t actually forget that night, she didn’t think it necessary when she would spend the night with her head propped on some part of him than her lavender scented pillow.

Emilia noticed, to her amusement, that his jaw hung slack, his mouth left ajar in his sleep. He let loose a rumbling snore then. Stifling her giggle with great difficulty, Emilia gazed at him sleeping a moment longer. Her mind was running a mile a minute. Then she saw the small chocolate square the hotel provided for her by the bedside.

Her eyes lit up and Emilia reached behind her for the chocolate square on her side of the bed. When she picked it up, she was dismayed to find that it was slightly soft, melted. Nonetheless, she carefully unwrapped it and gingerly took the soft square between her index finger and thumb. Biting her lip so she would not giggle, she carefully hovered the chocolate square over his ajar mouth.

To her horror, the chocolate square broke at the point she was holding and fell. Most of it fell into his mouth with the corner catching his bottom lip and staining it. Emilia pursed her lips against giggling but could not stop the way her body shook with utmost amusement.

He, however, was still dead to the world. Emilia watched him as she absently brought her fingers to her lips and licked the chocolate off them. She was pouting, disappointed Kit did not even wake, much less react, when his snoring ceased abruptly. She froze. His lips moved. She watched in disbelief as he tasted and swallowed the chocolate without any sign of waking.

 _A sleepy Kitten…_ Emilia fondly watched him continue to sleep. Feeling giggles bubble from her belly, she covered her mouth with her hand to stifle the sound.

It was then his tongue darted out and licked his lips of some chocolate. _Probably having a good chocolate filled dream now._ Emilia rolled her eyes. Then without any preamble, he rolled onto his side towards her. His heavy arm came around to settle across her waist, hugging her to him, as his leg draped snugly over hers. Jostled back from her spot on his chest, Emilia blinked, stunned, as he settled.

Then he farted soundly.

She laughed but quickly muffled it with her hand, pursing her lips and holding her breath. _Is that what I’d get for feeding you chocolate in the morning?_ She giggled as she gazed up at him.  

He had fallen back to sleep, his lips parted and his snoring resuming. That was when her eye caught the small smudge of chocolate on the bottom corner of his lip that he missed. She stared at it. In this position, his lips were closer, well within her reach; tempting her.

The smudge was over the small birthmark Kit had over the right bottom corner of his bottom lip, concealing it.

 _This beautiful man._ She gazed across his pink heart-shaped lips, recalling the softness of it, the tenderness and strength with which they moved against hers, the warmth of his sweet mouth. Craning her neck up towards him, a hand on his chest, her lips were trembling. She could feel his warm breath against her lips as her lips brushed his, coaxing him to part them. With her hand against his chest, Emilia thought she could feel his heart speed up. It could have been her own, on hindsight. Her eyes slipped shut as her lips melted against and around his lower lip. She kissed him ardently. She had finally stopped trembling.

Her lips moved so slowly, lingering on his so much so she seemed to be barely moving. She wanted him to feel this; to feel the sweetness of their kiss. She wanted to make him smile, make him laugh, make his body coil and tense with pleasure, make him feel ecstatic, make him feel loved without even a shadow of doubt. She wanted to stay like this for as long as she could. She wondered if he would kiss her back if he was awake, what the look in his lovely brown eyes would be.

_He would reject it._

_He’s not yours to kiss. Not anymore._

It felt suddenly chilly. Letting the tip of her nose brush the side of his, she kissed him once more, tasting the chocolate, before she reluctantly pulled away. Their lips clung to the other, as if unable to bear parting from the other. When they parted so she could no longer feel his lips, her breath hitched painfully and her lips burned where they touched his.

 _Kitten._ Her eyes fluttered open and she gazed at him through wet lashes. With the chocolate gone, she could see the small birthmark. It was as she remembered.

Stemming the urge to kiss him over it again, as she recalled he loved, she pulled away and settled stiffly against his chest.

_He’s not yours to kiss. Or to touch._

_You led him on… you’re leading him on._

Unable to draw another breath with the stifling amount of guilt she felt, Emilia gingerly tried to pull herself from him. Every inch of her screamed in protest to be torn from him.

He does not let her; his heavy arm draped obstinately around her waist and his leg curled around one of hers. Kitten had said. _You’re not. We’re best mates. We agreed. You can’t go back on that promise now._ She recalled as she gazed up at his sleeping visage.

He looked lovely like this. _Clingy as always._ She smiled wistfully. Then she realised his snores have quietened after she had kissed him and Emilia chuckled, mentally saving that for if she happened to find it difficult to fall asleep to his snores. Even as she thought that, she knew that to be unlikely; she was always eager for bed and fell asleep easily, too easily, next to him.

Reluctant as she was, she glanced over at the clock to see that it was almost time for them, or rather her, to report for make-up and hair. They would be filming their first scenes together today. Even in her mind, Emilia knew it would feel bizarre to her. Kit has been excited about it and he didn’t even bother hiding it; he was, and she quote, ‘dying to take the piss out of her in front of everyone’. He had made her promise to wake him up so they could go on set together despite his later call time. With his heavy limbs over her, he wasn’t giving her much of her choice now.

Rolling her eyes, she gently settled her palm flat against his chest, trying to ignore how warm and solid he felt under her hand, “Kitten, wake up,” she pushed him. He remained obstinately asleep, mumbling incoherently in his sleep, “Kitten,” she reached up and cupped his bearded cheek. His beard was thicker than it used to be; back when lying in bed like this was a common occurrence, when they were together.

A fond smile graced her lips unwittingly as she felt his beard. _He looks really good with a beard. And he will look equally lovely without it._ She thought, remembering how he had looked when she first saw him; basically clean shaven with a stubble he was growing. _Fucking hell, focus Emilia._

“Kitten, wake up,” she raised her voice, patting his cheek insistently. He stirred.

His brows knitted before his eyes fluttered open, looking smaller than ever. She felt guilty for a moment at how tired he looked. She was about to coax him back to sleep by attempting to lie that she got the time wrong. Before she could, his eyes found and fixed on her before the softest, most contented smile melted across his sleepy face. The sight of his sweet smile drew out a smile from her and she supposed it always will, even in her hardest moments, “good morning,” he croaked out, his voice hoarse from disuse.

He withdrew his arm from around her waist to, presumably, rub his eye, “good morning, Kitten,” she caught his large hand with both of hers and without much thought beyond how endearing he looked when waking, she brought his hand up to her lips and pressed a firm kiss to the back of his hand.

“Milly…” his soft voice trailed off.

Realising what she has done, her heart pounded in fear that he might pull his hand from hers. _Stop it, Emilia. Do you want to keep this friendship or not?_ Lowering his hand to the space between them, she hesitated for a moment before her eyes darted to meet his. His sleepy dark brown eyes were as warm as they were soft. She panicked nonetheless, “sorry for waking you so early,” she whimpered a hasty excuse.

He chuckled, “oh yes, fuck you for that,” he smiled a cheeky smile that made her want to kiss him senseless.

 _I wish you would._ It was on the tip of her tongue, a jape they always shared. But never in such a compromising position. She was proud of herself when she said instead, “ungrateful prick,” she snapped, “you asked me to. If you remember,”

Kit snorted, “fine. _Thank you_ Ms Clarke,”

“Don’t be a dick,” she rolled her eyes, “and so fucking early in the morning,” she whimpered. Remembering that she still held his hand between both of hers, she hurriedly let him go. Without missing a beat, he rolled away from her onto his back.

He glanced to the clock, “fine. Me not being a dick is letting you use the loo first. Like a true gentleman,” one arm under the thick heavy duvet, the other came up over his head as he stretched the sleep from his body. Her eyes automatically fell to his solid, well-sculptured abdomen as his old t-shirt, with small holes on his sleeve and collar, rode up.

“The _abs_ , _good_ morning” she grinned cheekily and rubbed her hand across his solid abdomen several times, her voice filled with mock reverence. His skin was warm, almost hot, to the touch and Emilia felt herself moistening just slightly.

Kit scowled and Emilia giggled, hopping up quickly, “fuck off,” his large hand came and swatted at her, narrowing catching her bottom with his fingertips as she got off the bed. She feigned a howl of pain, rubbing her bottom pitifully, before she grabbed her towel and disappeared into the loo.

**Kit**

He was never a morning person. He preferred to sleep in till noon.

It was 6.30am.

And Kit has never been happier to be awake.

His abdomen was tingling where she had teasingly caressed him. His hand prickled where she had pressed a tender good-morning-kiss to the back of. He glanced down to said hand, wondering if her kiss had left a mark on his, now burning, skin. _How could it not?_ He wondered idly as he gazed at the veiny surface of his skin. He could still feel her little hands holding his. He would’ve held her back and prevented her withdrawal but he was still reeling from the completely unexpected kiss she had dropped on his hand.

 _She is still prone to unexpected acts of affection._ Kit thought fondly, recalling how she would hug him when he least expected it. Smiling, he brought his hand to his lips and kissed the spot she did. His eyes slipped shut as he tried to recall how her lips felt; how very sweet she would taste.

It was then Kit noticed the taste of chocolate in his mouth.

He frowned, puzzled. He didn’t recall eating chocolate before bed. And with increased smoking, he had always made a point to wash up completely before climbing into her bed; showering with copious amounts of soap thoroughly and brushing his teeth twice over. He had made sure he didn’t bring anything toxic with him when she snuggled up against him in her sleep and when she fell deep in sleep, he would secretly press kisses to her hair and face, wherever he could reach. He never kissed her lips though, he didn’t dare. _What if she woke?_

Lowering his hand, Kit licked his lips to taste chocolate as well. He frowned in confusion before sighing. While waiting for her, he turned onto his side to bury his face into her lavender scented pillows. He missed her scent on the pillows for she slept on his chest these days but her pillow spray soothed him nevertheless.

He groaned as his stiffness chaffed against his shorts. He had almost forgotten about it. He had ‘so graciously’ let her use the loo before him when in truth, he needed some time to make himself presentable to make his way to the loo. Then she had mercilessly rub his abdomen, the exact way he wished she would rub his stiff member instead. He had been annoyed when he felt himself react, already excitable to begin with. But she seemed so blissfully oblivious; for how filthy her mind could be most of the time. Then, more unable to help himself than it being a conscious decision, he had sneaked a feel of her bottom after. Kit could still see the way she rubbed her bottom as she went into the loo. Kit had quietly thanked the Gods for the heavy duvet that weighed down and concealed his tented shorts effectively.

Frustrated, he turned so he was on his stomach. Reaching up, he slipped his arms under the pillow. Clutching it to his face to take a deep breath of the scent, he tentatively thrusted against the mattress. He swallowed a groan at how good it felt as he drew back his hips before thrusting.

His eyes rolling to the back of his head, a face swam into his mind. Imprinted into the back of his eyelids, Kit could practically see the way she would arch under him as he thrusted firmly. He could hear her endearing whimpers as he slid into her, filling her. He could feel her hand clutching his arm, the other digging into the skin of his back, her legs curled around his hips, the heel of her feet digging into his bottom to urge him deeper into her. He muffled his groan into the pillows as his thrusts became clumsy and his limbs began to shake. Unable to hold himself over her, he let his hips lean heavily onto her. She rolled her hips backwards to take him deeper into her. His breath hitched over a guttural moan as she tightened around him, milking him for his release, “ _Milly_ ,” he whispered.  

Determined for her to peak before he did, he released the pillows to slide his hand between them, his fingers poised to please her.

He felt nothing; nothing but the mattress beneath him, his burgeoning length sandwiched firmly between his muscled abdomen and the mattress.

The realisation hit him like cold water across his heated skin.

He shifted, now uncomfortably. The friction the mattress and his own abdomen caused felt good despite his now, quickly shrinking length. But it was not what he wanted. _Not even close_. His eyes welled with angry tears as he glared at the elaborate designs of the bedframe. Taking a shaky breath, he pulled himself from the suddenly chilly bed. Grabbing his cigarettes and lighter from the pocket of his trousers, Kit pulled open the balcony. He took a breath of fresh air and it was almost enough. Almost.

He did not want to smoke. He truly didn’t. Not now. Not here. Not with her.

He knew how bad it was for him and he could remember how determined he was to stop only a few years ago; when he still had her. His mother had expressed her wish for him to stop when she noticed how his addiction was getting worse these past few years, almost pleading for him to stop. But he simply couldn’t.

And Emilia. She always had a deeply concerned look in her eyes every time he has had to step away for a smoke the past one month he has spent with her. Her look made it even harder, almost painful, for him to leave for a smoke. Truthfully, he has been happy this past month. But no matter how he felt at that time, his hand would begin to shake and the idea of smoking would consume him. Even if stepping away from the moment, from her, kills him, he needed that cigarette to feel whole again.

Every time he has had to leave her to feed his addiction, Kit felt guilt and shame. He has loss count of the number of times he spent standing at the smoking area, admiring her. She was the best side of him, she has always been; his best friend. She always looked so perfect and watching her from a distance while he fed his addiction, she had never felt more unattainable to him and him more undeserving of her.

Standing in the balcony then, Kit has never felt more a failure. _So fucking weak…_ More tears welled up in his eyes, threatening to fall as he fought the losing fight against the pack of cigarettes and lighter in his hand.

 _It’s too late to stop now_.

Kit pushed the balcony door close. He made sure it was firmly shut so the smoke would not enter her room. Then he turned his back to it and he was now alone, with his cigarettes and his lighter. He stared at the pack for a long moment before he pulled a stick from his half-opened pack with trembling fingers. His body coiled with the anticipation of hearing the click of the lighter; he already knew how that sound, even before the first drag, will, ironically, relax him from his current anxiety over smoking-

“Kitten,”

Kit jumped, startled out of his skin. He turned to see her standing at the, now, opened balcony door. His face burned with shame as her eyes darted down to the stick of cigarette between his fingers and the lighter in the other. He fought the tears in his eyes, keeping them from falling. He would not look weaker than he already looked, clutching his cigarette and lighter like the failure he was.

“A-are you-“ she paused. He saw her swallow before she asked, “what’s wrong?”

Shame settled over his shoulders, weighing him down and he suddenly found it difficult to look at her. He glanced across the lightening sky, anywhere but her; anything so that he need not look at the disappointment or pity in her eyes. At this point, Kit thought he would find even the concern unbearable; making him feel guilty on top of the shame. So he stood there, staring at the railing and wondering if he would still think of smoking when he jumped and was falling-

“Kitten,”

He blinked, her tone beseeching; for his answer, for him to look at her, he was not sure. But answering her seemed easier than the latter so Kit parted his lips and rasped out, “I don’t want to, Milly,” he said thickly, “I don’t want to smoke…I really don’t,” he whimpered the last part, knowing how stupid that sounded. _Please believe me. No one else does._

The last time he said that was to Rose. He was in the middle of dinner with her parents, his first meeting with them, when Rose told him to skip this smoke break. She had snorted at his answer and glared at him when he left anyway to smoke. He understood her response and her plea. They have spoken of this. Rose was trying to hide the fact that he smoked. Her parents didn’t like their daughter to date a smoker. It was the only thing of him they didn’t approve of. _And the cheating, if they knew._ Kit had thought scathingly as he met the narrow-eyed look her father shot his way when he had returned, stinking of cigarette.

Kit knew that look Rose’s father gave him; a look that told him how unworthy he was. _I have never measured up to any of the women I was with anyway…I definitely won’t be measuring up to Rose Eleanor Arbuthnot-Leslie, daughter of Sebastian Arbuthnot-Leslie, the Aberdeenshire Chieftain of Clan Leslie._

He felt a traitorous tear burn its trail down his cheek and into his beard as he glared at the railing. He startled when he felt her soft, warm hand slip into his; the one holding the cigarette. He looked down and hurriedly dropped the cigarette. He would be damned if he let her even touch it.

She was quiet and when he dared, he met her eye to see a sad but almost playful look. He was surprised. He blinked away his tears as he examined her blue-gold eyes to see that there was no sign of disappointment or pity or doubt in them. She glanced down to the cigarette that he had dropped and bent her knees, looking to be about to pick it up with her other hand. Hastily, he took her other hand in his as well, “no,” he told her, his tone exceptionally curt.

“It-“ Emilia blinked up at him, confused.

“Leave it,” he said, affording it another glance before he kicked it away from them, “don’t touch that,” he muttered.

She blinked twice before she chuckled, “I’ve smoked before Kitten,”

Kit knew that, “you don’t anymore,” she was a social smoker, occasionally having one or two fags during parties when she was younger but she has since stopped. He studied her face and knew she was the only person in this world who would believe him when he told her this, “I don’t want to smoke,” he forced himself to hold her gaze, begging her to believe him, “Milly, I don’t want to smoke,”

Her eyes darted between his, not because she doubted him, he knew; he could see it. But because she knew he needed her to look at him, and show him she believed him. And with her face; in the slight raise of her brow, in the mix of understanding and pain in her tear-filled eyes, in her pursed, trembling lips, she told him she believed him. Those very lips forced a smile and parted, “ok, then we won’t,” she squeezed his fingers and Kit held her hands tighter, one of her hand in each of his. _We._ Kit felt his middle warm then and suddenly, simply standing here with her and breathing in fresh morning air felt infinitely easier.

He didn’t realise he has lost his lighter too till then. However, he knew he wouldn’t be looking for it; not anytime soon when she brought his hands to her face. Nuzzling her cheek to the back of his hand and pressing a kiss to the back of his fingers on the other, she snuggled against his chest. He smiled at the contentment evident on her face as he released her hand to cup her cold cheek in his warm hand. With his other hand, he palmed the back of her head to his chest. Her hair was still wet from her shower but Kit buried his nose into her hair all the same. She smelled like the jasmine shampoo she usually used and Kit inhaled her scent as greedily as he might the cigarette.

Because she was his addiction too, Kit realised to his amusement.

He felt her arms wrap around his waist and she squeezed him in a firm hug, pulling him flushed against her. She was wearing a thick oversized bathrobe but Kit found himself worrying if she would feel cold, being outdoors immediately after her shower and before her hair dried. He did what he could then, wrapping his arms and curling his body around her as best as he can; shielding her from the frigid cold air. They stood there for a long while with Emilia nuzzling her cheek against his chest once in a while, sniffing. When she sniffed one too many times and Kit felt her slip a hand with frozen fingers under his shirt for warmth, Kit chuckled and unwound his arms from around her to cup her face, about to suggest they make their way inside.

“Kitten, look,” she whispered. He followed her gaze across the horizon.

His breath was stolen along with hers as he felt a breath leave her body and she relaxed against him entirely, “it’s so beautiful,” her eyes were wide and twinkling with awe. The shadow from the light of the rising sun further defined her delicate, perfect features that are so very familiar to Kit by now. _She_ looked so beautiful, he thought. Her lips parted as a shuddering breath left her lips. Kit felt an impulse to capture her lips with his and take that same breath into his lungs, “Kitten,” she turned to him and he found himself looking into the sunrise; encapsulated in her bright, awe-filled eyes. 

He was rendered speechless as he sought to even begin to contemplate her beauty. The softness of the look in her eyes was unrivalled. No one has ever looked at him this way. _And no one ever will._ Her cold hand came up to stroke the arm he had around her waist absently. That simple act of affection made his chest swell.

Then her face contorted with sheer horror, her brows rising so high Kit didn’t think it possible, “Kitten!” she shrieked, “fuck fuck fuck fuck! What time is it?” she glanced back at the telling sunrise, “I’m going to be so fucking late!” she shouted and with that, she ran back into the hotel room, making a beeline for the vanity.

Kit watched her from his place at the balcony, amused. She rummaged all the drawers for the hairdryer, clumsily nicking her finger on the edge of a drawer and cursed the drawer. She took her finger into her mouth as she continued looking. Kit chuckled softly as he went to the nearest bedside table and picked up her phone. He returned to the balcony and quietly snapped a photo of the sunrise.

He knew she found the hairdryer when he heard her shout of triumph. Then she blew her hair frantically. He turned just in time to see her glance around for him. She was aghast when she spotted him still standing there. She snapped impatiently, “go take your morning shit and be quick about it!”

 _Oh yes, there’s still that to look forward to._ Kit chuckled, shaking his head at the thought of needing her to remind him of that before heading for the loo eagerly. Peeling off his shirt on the way there, he tossed it in the laundry. At the door, he peeled off his shorts and tossed it in along with his soiled shirt.

“For fuck’s sake, take off your clothes in the loo!” she shouted behind him, sounding scandalised. He glanced back to see her staring at him, her cheeks pink. Her hairdryer was blowing aimlessly into the air above her head. Her eyes darted down before she hurriedly tore her gaze away and resumed drying her hair, flustered, “hurry up!” Kit rolled his eyes, stifling a chuckle as he pushed open the loo door and sauntered in for his satisfying morning dump. Then he heard her curse, “fucking hell, it’s already 7.30!”

_She is my addiction and she is equal parts amazing as she is fucking annoying._

 

**Emilia**

She felt unbearably nervous. This would be the first scene she filmed for Season 7, a big season for Daenerys because she has finally made it to Westeros and a big season for Emilia because it would be the first time she would be sharing a scene with Kit.

To date, Kit was probably the person Emilia most wanted to work with, probably even more than Leonardo DiCaprio. Of course, making her admit it to Kit would be impossible and akin to submitting herself to months of torment.

Kit was the first person she got close to on this show. Even before she saw him act, Emilia knew him to be an earnest, hardworking and down-to-earth young actor. She believed in his abilities just from hearing of his days in school, his approach to acting, his theatre stint he did even before graduating and his well-thought out take of the character of Jon Snow. They were very alike in a way that, despite coming from different schools, they both took character study very seriously. Both of them studied their characters almost obsessively from the source material and the script even before starting rehearsals.

In the first season, she still remembered how they spent nights talking about their characters and Kit’s input to her interpretation of Daenerys was extremely insightful and his suggestions were useful as well. She had always seek his opinions in these matters. She told herself it was because he has read all the books then but Emilia knew it was more than that now. He was clever, kind and modest – when he wasn’t taking the piss out of her.

She admired him as a person and as an actor. She would always tell him she was his biggest fan teasingly just so she could see him flush and catch him in a rare moment of bashfulness. But that statement has always held more truth than Emilia herself cared to admit to him.

The first time she saw him act was when she had snuck onto the set of Castle Black in the first season. She remembered smiling the whole time at how serious he was, trying to imagine how amazing it would be to watch him on stage. And then she did; despite his small role, she was in awe of the way he carried himself and commanded the stage. His more recent role in theatre, Dr Faustus, had her gawking the whole time at his incredible range. He projected his voice perfectly and was able to deliver slight nuances that Emilia herself struggle with while trying to project her voice.

As the make-up people put the finishing touches on her, the idea that she would be walking on set to see Kit, in character and in costume, was surreal. It was just a few hours ago that she woke next to him, trying to prank him, watching the sunrise with him and catching a glimpse of him completely naked. Her face burned as the vivid image came to her mind again. She has seen Kit naked before, on multiple occasions, but it has been a while since the last time and the sight still made her blush.

Preparing for the scene now, Emilia couldn’t even imagine herself completing a take without giggling with all the nerves she was feeling, much less deliver a bad-ass speech that Daenerys delivered to Jon. She groaned inwardly at the thought of Kit making it harder than it would be by goofing around and taking the piss out of her.

“Alright, all done!” Kay announced. Emilia blinked to see Daenerys in the mirror; wearing light make-up and a blue scarf over her gold-silver hair to protect it against the atmosphere.

“Thank you,” Emilia grinned and Kay smiled, brushing the bridge of her nose a little more before putting away her things. Fondling the ring on her finger, Emilia made her way onto the Dragonstone set, “Nat!” Emilia squealed when she saw Nathalie upon stepping onto the set.

“Someone’s late today,” Nathalie grinned, teasing quietly, “and I heard you came in with an unusual growth,”

Emilia blushed. Kit’s appearance with her, thus coming in two hours before his own call-time surprised all of the hair-and-makeup department, costume department, and cast. Kit was notorious for having trouble waking in the morning; always arranging for wake-up calls by the front-desk or fellow cast mates. Kit coming in right on-time was a common occurrence. Kit coming in early was almost never heard of even after 6 seasons. He was lucky he did not have much to do with hair and make-up in that regard – which was why David and Dan’s prank on Kit to have his whole face scarred, making make-up and his future call-times a nightmare had genuinely scared Kit.

Nathalie nudged her, “so…?”

“What?” Emilia knitted her brows, having a hard time keeping a smile off her face. Nathalie smirked, raising a brow, “nothing! Genuinely, nothing happened,” Emilia rolled her eyes, “he’s with Rose,” she had a hard time keeping her voice steady.

“Is he?” Nathalie asked teasingly and Emilia followed her gaze to see Kit, or rather _Jon_ , walking on set alongside Liam. Liam was talking to him animatedly but Kit was looking right at them, a small smile on his lips. Emilia thought he looked amazing. She had never felt a fan more than at that moment.

“We’re just friends, Nat,” Emilia turned to her, tearing her eyes from Kit, “Kit… he needs his best friend now, not another problem on his hands,” she mumbled. 

“He doesn’t look like he is looking at a problem,” Nathalie insisted with a grin, her eyes constantly glancing to Kit.

“That’s because he’s looking at his best friend,” Emilia fixed her eyes on Nathalie, determined not to look at Kit; not now when Nathalie just said what she said. Then the team of costume department approached, effectively ending that line of conversation. As she let the costume department fix her cape, she and Nat started developing a dance number, as they always did when they filmed in Morocco or Croatia.

When she did glance to Kit, she saw that he was letting someone adjust his costume. He glanced to her then and when their eyes met across the room, Emilia felt goosebumps explode across her skin; because she was looking at Jon or Kit, she wasn’t sure.

Soon, it was time for a short run-through with the director and rehearsals. Emilia pulled out her script, filled with all hers and Kit’s notes. They had spent some time the night before pouring over it together. Then she felt someone bump her shoulder. Glancing to her right, Kit was peering over her shoulder at her script. His curly hair was pulled back behind his head so it was out of his face. She could see his little widow’s peak better like this. He was chewing his lower lip as he poured over her script.

“Oy, fuck off,” Emilia fought a smile as she shoved him with her shoulder, “this is my script. Where’s your own?”

Kit feigned to be wounded as he frowned, “My notes are here as well,” he pointed and Emilia rolled her eyes; of course they had to write their notes on the same set of scripts last night, “sharing is caring,” Kit recited sagely. She rolled her eyes again and Kit continued, “and I can’t fuck off, this is my set,”

“Nope!” Emilia drew back with a mock scowl; she was having trouble keeping her face straight, “nuh uh, no. This,” she gestured, “is my set; Dragonstone. So you, get you and your pretty hair off my set. There can only be one hair in town,” she straightened herself to her full height to reach only his nose.

He raised his brows, “bossy as usual,” she huffed as if he was the most tiresome person she has had to talk to and Kit looked rightfully wounded but Emilia knew him better than that. She could see the twinkle in his dark eyes and the small curve at the edge of his lip; at the same spot she had stolen a kiss from this very morning.

“And here we go, bickering already?” Liam stepped up to them, laughing, “this is going to be a breeze,”

“If a tornado’s a breeze,” she heard Kit mutter under his breath and she giggled unwittingly. Kit glanced to her, smiling, “what’re your dragons’ names again?”

Emilia turned to him in mock disbelief which quickly became genuine when she realised Kit wasn’t even joking, “Tom, Dick and Harry,” she replied scathingly.

Kit frowned, “ah, poor Dick,” Kit said empathetically without missing a beat and Emilia chortled.

 “Alright, let’s get started,” Mark, the director, stepped up to them, “I assume you two have rehearsed your lines?” he glanced hopefully to the script Emilia held.

Emilia flushed. They have just spent the time bickering. She exchanged a look with Kit.

“No,”

“Yes,” Kit said the same time she replied, brimming with confidence that Emilia did not feel.

Emilia rolled her eyes. They did, a little, last night in bed but Emilia would hardly call that a rehearsal. It has consisted mainly of Kit singing his lines and Emilia reciting them in an American accent.

Mark raised a brow and chuckled. He looked between them before Emilia relented, “alright, we did, a little,” Mark nodded and started instructing them which marker to stand on and informing them of where the cameras will be.

All the while, Emilia could not take her eyes off of Kit. It still felt surreal to her even as she had Kit standing right in front of her, listening intently to Mark’s instructions. She was proper excited as she listened to the scene unfolding with Mark’s narration. She wondered how this was for him. Then Kit’s eyes darted up to meet hers and his eyes bugged at her and his brows raised uncharacteristically high in sheer excitement for a split second. He was letting her know how he felt and she giggled. Mark turned to her, confused. Behind Mark, Kit quelled his snickering behind a feigned cough. She shot Mark an apologetic smile. As Mark turned back to the script, she glared at him but Kit seemed to have renewed interest in the floor tile. 

Thus began their mission to make the other crack up before they themselves did. They did it all through rehearsals and when the actual take came, Emilia was having a hard time looking at Kit with a straight face and him her. A glance at the other sufficed to make the other snicker. It apparently wouldn’t do for Daenerys Targaryen to be pursing her lips against a smile when she saw Jon Snow and for Jon Snow to chuckle like Daenerys just said the funniest thing ever.

Kit was led out to walk in with Liam and Emilia took a deep breath, trying to get into Daenerys’ headspace. Mark positioned himself behind the viewer and the actual filming began.

Nathalie and Liam delivered their lines perfectly with Kit managing to nail the meaningful look he was to give Liam during the awkward pause. Emilia felt her lips twitch at the look on Kit’s face but thankfully, the camera wasn’t on her at that time.

Taking a subtle breath, she was all poise and regal as she addressed Jon Snow for the first time; a Queen, “thank you for travelling so far, my Lord. I hope the seas weren’t too rough,”

Kit nodded, a deliberate pause, “the winds were kind,” silence fell.

She raised a brow. He was supposed to address her ‘your Grace’.

“Fuck,” Kit muttered instead with a huff and it echoed around the large, empty set.

Emilia tried her best to hold it together for Kit could continue and the editing team could fix the scene but she burst out laughing. Kit shot her a sour look but even from a distance, Emilia could see him hiding his smile, “sorry,” she quelled her laughter to chuckles and hide behind her hand.

“That’s on you, Clarke,” Kit droned.

Pretty soon, the whole scene was down to them keeping score of who screwed up the most. With both their competitive spirits, they managed to keep the screw-ups minimal and Emilia delivered her long monologue whilst walking down the steps, closing the distance between them. That was when Kit cracked a tight, contained smile while the camera captured both their faces. Mark caught that, calling for a new take.

Kit ducked his head in embarrassment as the cameras adjusted themselves, “pull it together Jon Snow,” Emilia teased, punching his arm and they re-did the scene. Kit took a few deep breaths, licking his lips before he schooled his face. They did the scene again and the tension was so thick and much more intense this time than the previous, “I was born to rule the Seven Kingdoms,” she fixed him an unblinking stare, “and I will,”

Jon Snow met her stare with his own unnerving stare; as if Jon Snow was seeing who Daenerys Targaryen really is, seeing right through the armour she has donned. A chill ran down her spine, “you’ll be ruling over a graveyard,” his gaze shifted to that which willed her to understand, “if we don’t defeat the Night King,”

Daenerys tightened her jaw as she studied her new stubborn opposition. And there they stood, two monarchs refusing to budge.

“The war against my sister has already begun,” Tyrion took a few steps and delivered his lines. All the while, Daenerys held Jon Snow’s stare, wondering what made him so unmovable. She could sense a strength in him; is that strength why his people followed him?

Jon’s eyes only fell from her when Davos stepped up beside him, “you don’t believe him, I understand that. It sounds like nonsense,” Daenerys watched as Jon Snow’s face fell just a second, a second of vulnerability that she didn’t believe him; that people wouldn’t believe him. Then he was back, stronger than ever and meeting her eye. She fixed him with a firm, unwavering look and his eyes fell from her again as Davos listed his accomplishments. They were impressive, each and every one of them. Then Daenerys wondered why Jon Snow himself was not telling her this. Once in a while, his dark brooding eyes found hers which studied Davos and him like a hawk.

“He took a knife in the heart for his people, he gave his own l-“ then he silenced Davos with a look. _Curious_. Daenerys thought and just as Jon and Davos exchanged a look, she risked one with Tyrion, her own Hand. As she listened to Davos trying to convince her to join their fight and Tyrion arguing against Davos, she studied Jon Snow. He was running out of patience and evidently in distress.

“There’s no time for that!” he snapped, “there’s no time for any of this! While we stand here debating-“ this is the first time he showed a sign of losing his temper and Daenerys felt some triumph to get him to this point but she contemplated his reactions all the same.

“Takes no time to bend the knee,” Tyrion countered calmly, “pledge your sword to her cause,”

“And why would I do that?!” Jon demanded. His steely gaze turned to her and his anger turned on her, “I mean no offence, your Grace,” he furrowed his brows, “but I don’t know you,”

She felt a sting but narrowed her eyes and remained impassive as she studied this man whom she was getting to know more and more.

“As far as I can tell, your claim to the throne rests entirely on your father’s name and my father fought to overthrow the Mad King,” Jon snapped. _He wouldn’t budge._ That was when she realised. It was as if he knew that too and his voice lowered just a little, “the Lords of the North placed their trust in me to lead them and I will continue to-,” he paused, “sorry,” Kit said but without breaking a beat, he continued, “and I will continue to do so as well as I can,”

Silence fell, “that’s fair. It’s also fair to point out that I am the rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. By declaring yourself King of the Northernmost Kingdom, you are in open rebellion,” she told him in a measured tone, one with a dangerous, threatening edge.

He swallowed subtly, clenching his jaw as he glared at her. He was soldier now, readying himself for a fight, against her when most men would cower. She met his glare with an impassive stare. It was then Emilia glimpsed the edge of his lip twitched upwards. _Kit, not Jon._ He was about to crack up-

“Cut!” Mark called. _A perfect take. Finally._

Liam heaved an audible sigh of relief, “oh thank fuck for that,” both Liam and Peter instantly removed themselves from the incredibly tensed scene.

Emilia laughed, clapping as Kit pursed his lips against a grin. She pointed at him as he took a step towards her, “that was a screw up,” a tie-breaker.

He enveloped her outstretched hand with his own, “no it wasn’t!” Kit protested weakly, “I recovered quickly without any need for a re-shoot,” he came to stand closer in front of her.

“Right…” she said patronisingly but held his hand back, squeezing it. His fingers were colder than hers. She smiled up at him, wondering if he was as nervous as she was for that scene. He met her eye, a soft warm look in his and she knew he felt exactly as she did; nervous but now, incredibly proud of them both.

They were here, filming the seventh season of their very successful show that they didn’t think would be renewed for even the second season. But more importantly, they were here together. With him here, this felt less intimidating and she felt just a tad stronger, a tad braver. As apart as they were, Emilia would be lying if she claimed knowing he was there, even if continents away, didn’t make all of this feel easier than it is. She knew no matter how hard it was, even if she were to explain it and no one were to understand, Kitten would.

As Emilia looked at him now, she was suddenly reminded of 5 years ago, of the earlier days of filming; the naivety, the struggle, the doubt, the joys, the pain, the hope. She could see everything in his eyes and on his face; the one constant she had from the very beginning in the hotel bar. She wished she could tell him all that she felt now but she couldn’t find the words.

He smiled then and squeezed her hand as if he understood what she wanted to say. She realised then he probably felt the same. Then he whispered so softly he almost only mouthed it, “Welcome to Westeros, Daenerys Targaryen.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE COMMENTS LAST CHAPTER, I was genuinely quite overwhelmed and a little tearful. They inspire me so much to continue writing long ass chapters and keep up with regular updates. (off I go to reply to all your amazing comments)
> 
> Special mention for that massive callback to The First Verse: Chapter 1 with that last line from Kit ;) 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed this one as much as you did the previous one :) Would love to continue to hear from you guys so let me know what you liked (or disliked) about this!


	4. You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “I mean, JEEZE, one pet of a dragon and he thinks he’s one of them. #youknownothingjonsnow #butyoudoknowhowtonotgetblownoffacliffingaleforcewindssotheresalwaysthat #everypunaboutwindIcanthinkofinserthere  
> \- Emilia Clarke (Instagram, Aug 2017)
> 
> And then I fell over. Or rather a brisk 50mph N.Irish wind caught me unawares... #gameofhowtostanduprightinagaleforcewind #atleasttheviewmsdeitallworthiteh? #bitoftailwinddoesnicleyonadragonridethough...   
> \- Emilia Clarke (Instagram, Oct 2016)
> 
> After my dad died, I started getting optical migraines, which is a stress response. You might have them for a month and they go away. But that’s a completely separate thing. The “Game of Thrones” set can be tense, so there’s a lot of pressure and there are moments in the day when I’ll think, “Oh God, this is it,” when logically I know that it’s just an anxious response. I’ll suddenly get a tension headache and I’ll turn to someone who’s near me — God love every hair and makeup girl I’ve ever had — and say, “I think I’m having a brain hemorrhage, but I’m not. Can you just hold my hand and look at me and tell me I’m going to be fine?” And I’d just try to relax, take some deep breaths and get through it.  
> One doctor was just like, “Live your life. Maybe don’t do cocaine. Live your life.” Thank God I never did drugs. I’m a complete scaredy-cat. If I had ever done a line of coke, I would have died on the spot because of the blood pressure. But yeah, just live your life. There’s a certain amount of fatality to that. But there’s nothing else to do but just carry on.  
> \- Emilia Clarke (LA times, May 2019)

_October 2016, Belfast Northern Ireland_

**Emilia**

The café was as she remembered; dated design, peeling and faded wallpaper, old flat and faded cushions on the seats and the grease that escaped from the kitchen clung stubbornly onto the air. But Emilia didn’t feel the slightest tinge of disgust at the place. In fact, fond memories of this place warmed her middle, made her heart swell and her stomach grumbled. She eagerly took a whiff of coffee mixed in with the smell of butter.

“Good morning!” the plump lady behind the counter of fresh muffins beamed. It was early so the café was empty,“2 fry-ups and 2 signature lattes?”

A low chuckle beside her made her heart skip a beat and her empty fingers twitched, eager for the feel of another, “yes please Josie,” he smiled as they approached the counter.

“In a rush today?” Josie asked.

Kit glanced to the clock and Emilia didn’t know why he bothered, “yes,” Emilia replied with smile, “unfortunately,” she sighed.

“Alright, I’ll ask the boys to make it quick,” Josie flashed them a wide grin.

“Thank you,” Emilia dug into her bag for her wallet.

“Hey,” she felt his elbow nudge her as he pulled out his wallet from his back pocket and quickly handed over his card, “I got it,” he muttered.

“No fucking way, you paid yesterday,” Emilia held his elbow gently, her thumb absently stroking the soft fabric of his jumper.

“I’m the one who asked you to accompany me for breakfast,” Kit turned to her, fixing her a determined stare that told her he would not compromise on the matter at hand. A resigned smile graced her lips and his eyes glanced to it before he smiled, turning to pay.

Josie took the card from Kit, glancing between them with a small smile. She has witnessed them bickering over the bill multiple times already, across the filming of various seasons of Thrones but since the filming of season 7 began, they appeared and bickered almost daily. Kit always won those arguments with it usually ending with him bringing up that he had recommended her this café to begin with. _Our first breakfast together._  

Then an idea came to her and Emilia chimed in suddenly, smirking, “Josie, we’ll have all the muffins you have baked this morning as well,”

Kit turned to her, blinking in disbelief, “no-“ he protested. Emilia immediately placed her hand over his mouth, muffling the rest of his protest while trying to ignore how nice his beard felt. Then she felt his warm, wet tongue dart out and lick her palm.

She shrieked, “KITTEN!” she lamented, pulling her hand away. She cringed as she cleaned her palm on his sleeve.

“Hey!” Kit scowled.

Josie laughed and nodded, “alright then, 48…no 56 muffins,” she began punching the numbers into the calculator.  “as the missus ordered, that will be…”

Emilia blushed, glancing to Kit to see him staring at Josie calculating his bill. There was still a look of disbelief on his face but Emilia could have sworn she saw the edge of his lips twitch up in a small smile as Josie addressed her as such even while he watched the muffins be added to his bill. _He is not going to correct her._ Emilia noticed and immediately spoke up, explaining their relationship sheepishly, “Josie, we’re not-“ Josie looked up.

“not ordering the muffins,” Kit interrupted.

Emilia scowled up at him, “yes we are,” she snapped. Kit raised his brow and Emilia could hear his question: _who is going to eat all those muffins? You?_ He gave her a pointed look, glancing over her petite frame, “we’re buying breakfast for everyone else,” she said matter-of-factly. She has bought breakfast for the cast and crew a couple of times.

Kit rolled his eyes. Josie glanced between them, chuckling, “so what will it be, lovebirds?”

Emilia felt her cheeks warm for the second time, spreading to her ears, “we’re not together, Josie. We’re just friends,”

Josie looked astonished as she glanced to Kit, as if she needed to confirm. He was quiet beside her, “oh my, sorry about that,” Josie chuckled, “I thought you two were married by now. You come here every year for holiday so I thought…” Josie had not the slightest clue about Thrones and it became evident to both of them by the third season. Her usual customers, mostly elderly, did not seem up to date with the show as well. That fact had only spurred them to come here for breakfast together all the more often whenever both of them filmed in Belfast.

Josie began to pack the muffins, looking flustered with embarrassment, “it’s fine, Josie, no need to apologise,” Emilia smiled, trying to soothe the poor lady, “we’re just _very_ good friends,” then Kit jabbed her in the rib and she yelped, turning to him. He glanced to the piling boxes of muffins pointedly and Emilia sniggered, “thanks Josie, we’ll be at our table. Just,” Emilia leaned over the counter as much as she can, whispering loudly, “charge whatever to his card,” she winked.

Josie chortled and nodded.

Then she felt Kit throw his arm across her shoulder. He pulled her to him and she staggered into his side heavily but with him holding her, she knew she would not fall, “you owe me, Clarke,” he hissed.

“No, I don’t. You insisted on paying,” Emilia snorted. Kit tightened his arm around her neck and she panicked, tugging at his arm futilely. Then as she expected, with his other hand, Kit tickled her side with gentle fingers. She yelped, giggling as she squirmed away. She wasn’t normally ticklish but Kit knew her spots and how to tickle her.

“Say you’re sorry,” he whispered into her ear.

“No,” she giggled, breathless now. His arm around her neck tightened, keeping her where she was and his tickling fingers progressed up her side. Her body jerked and squirmed but it was impossible to get away. She laughed, “alright! S-sorry!”

Kit pinched her side gently and her body twisted away in response but to no avail, “to who?”

“Sorry Kitten!” she said loudly, giggling. Kit’s face reddened at the nickname and she almost cheered in triumph. That is until she felt Kit drop a firm sound kiss on her cheek. With her face burning, wanting to glance back to see if anyone saw that but at the same time not daring to, Emilia darted to the table the moment his arm loosened around her. Her head hung low, she slipped into the booth they always sat at. She could hear him laughing behind her the whole time. The moment she glimpsed him sit opposite her at the booth, she kicked him in the shin.

His face twisted in agony and he howled, clutching his leg as tears gathered at the corner of his eyes, “ow,” he whimpered.

She had not even kicked him that hard but she had to admit her breath hitched with worry and her chest tightened for a moment at the theatrics he displayed, “fucking git,” Emilia muttered. _So fucking annoying._ She feigned a reproachful look at him as she took in the way his curls flopped into his eyes. She longed to brush them from his face and tuck them behind his ears. She wanted to massage his scalp until his warm chocolate eyes fluttered close in contentment. She wanted to bury her fingers in his curls until his sweet lips curve into a small, half-hidden smile – Kitten’s smile. _And yet…I_ _love you very much._

 

**Kit**

He trudged up the dirt road to the filming location. It was extremely windy but they have been promised good weather on the clifftop for filming. He was filming another scene with Emilia. His stomach churned and he took a sip of the cup of hot coffee in his hand in an attempt to hide any nervousness he may show on his face. They had aced their first scene together; also Jon and Dany’s first meeting but Kit had been terribly nervous throughout the scene. He did not want to screw up, because of the embarrassment and also because Kit was so desperate to prove that he was good enough to act opposite her.

At first, he had looked at her to see Emilia and not Daenerys. She giggled, danced, made faces and did different accents with Nathalie and sometimes, Peter. All through rehearsals, they goofed around and Kit’s heart fluttered every time he heard her laugh. Each little giggle, especially the ones that made her eyes scrunch up, made Kit strove for her next giggle.

Then they started filming for real and Kit did not recognise Emilia – she was Daenerys. Kit was not hard-pressed to believe her then when she spoke of her difficult past; being sold like a broodmare, raped and defiled. His heart went out to her, genuinely but not enough to give her what she was asking. In that moment, faced with Daenerys Targaryen, Kit was Jon.

She gave him everything to work with in the scene so much so it felt almost effortless to Kit. _It has been a while, since I have shared a scene with someone like that._ Kit thought as his eyes looked for her amongst the crew.

As usual, she was surrounded by hair, make-up and costume people. They laughed at something she said. Everywhere she went, laughter followed. Kit smiled as he approached, as if his feet had a mind of their own. He watched as the crew finished up with her and started dispersing. He smiled and eagerly made his way over. He was ready with his first tease when she pressed a knuckle into and began massaging her temple, her eyes slipping shut a moment too long.

He raised a brow as he approached. Brow furrowed, her face was strangely empty as she massaged her temple and she seemed a thousand miles away. He stopped beside her but she didn’t seem to notice him there. Not wanting to startle her now, he touched her elbow gently.

She startled all the same and Kit frowned, “alright?”

Her hand dropped from her temple as she nodded, smiling, “fine,”

His brows only knitted further, “headache?” he asked her. Her eyes shifted away from him and Kit’s worry doubled, “Em,” he squeezed her elbow before he reached for her other elbow to guide her to turn towards him.

Emilia looked up at him then, her eyes sparkling with amusement, “you never called me Em,”

“I-“ Kit paused. _And I shouldn’t call you Milly anymore either._ That name brought with it too many memories that sent him into one too many frantic heart palpitations, “I can call you whatever I want,” Kit huffed.

“Is that so?” she snorted but it was missing her usual fire and Kit studied her face, concerned.

“You call me _Kitten_ for fuck’s sake; a grown man… _kitten_ ,” his voice dropped as if all of the cast and crew have not heard her call him that and constantly teased him for it, “Em is not half as bad,” Kit argued.

She snorted a laugh, “granted, Kitten,” she grinned. Her eyes did not scrunch up behind her cheeks the way they usually did.

“Are you sure-“ Kit made to ask but the director called for them to begin rehearsals. They exchanged a look before trudging over there. It was incredibly windy and the winds got increasingly stronger as they approached the cliffside.

Beside him, Emilia lowered her head and trudged towards the director. He was about to tease her that her wig might just take flight when the winds picked up. She shrieked all of a sudden and teetered back, threatening to fall backwards against the grassy, rocky ground. Panic rose to his throat and Kit lunged forward, his hand grabbing her by her wrist. He pulled her to him and his panic only abated when she fell heavily against him. He took her into his arms and held her steady to him, the wind blowing against his back.  

She giggled, soft at first then loudly.

“You’re too little,” Kit accused over the top of her head, tightening his arms around her so the winds could not, literally, pull her away.

“The winds are fucking ridiculous!” she objected, her gloved fingers coming up to cling onto his arms.

“You can’t walk straight even without wind,” Kit muttered, “you’ll likely be blown off the cliff without me,”  

“Hey!” Emilia snapped, pushing him away, “no I won’t be. Fuck off,” Kit chuckled as he stumbled away from her. She mocked a glare at him before stomping towards the filming spot. Kit stifled a laugh as he watched her stomp away, looking absolutely comical with how petite she was. She teetered, leaning forward against another gale of wind and Kit jogged to keep up with her.

“Slow the fuck down,” Kit told her, a hand on her shoulder.

She rolled her eyes and shrugged off his hand. Kit tried not to let it sting, knowing she was probably only teasing, as usual, “I won’t be blown off the cliff today, and I will show you,” jutting her chin into the air, she strutted off. Kit chuckled but walk alongside her, his arm held at the ready behind the small of her back but never touching her for he knew she would surely reject it. She was always strong, and with it came the stubbornness. When they arrived as close to the cliff-edge as they dared, where they were filming, Kit admired the smug grin on her sweet face and chuckled as she boasted.

Then the director, Matt, called for rehearsals to begin and Emilia was gone in a blink of an eye. Before him stood only Daenerys and she was the most beautiful woman Jon Snow has ever seen even as she turned away from him to admire her dragons. He gazed at her, wishing she would turn around and look at him and at the same time, wishing she would not so he could look at her like this forever. He wanted her, so much, Jon realised in that moment. _More than I have ever wanted anything or anyone._

“You weren’t gone long,” he commented, his tone softer than he intended.

Her gaze faltered from the sky and she said, “No,” she turned to him but her gaze does not meet his eye.

“And?” he probed. She met his eye then and held his gaze with a guarded look in her eyes.

“And I have fewer enemies today than I did yesterday,” she said, her tone challenging him to comment on that. He stayed silent, “you’re not sure how you feel about that,” she turned away from him.

“No, I’m not,” he told her. She regarded him from the corner of her eyes. Kit then waited for her to turn and begin walking but Emilia doesn’t. Instead, an uncharacteristic frown appeared on Daenerys’ face and her eyes fluttered close. The next time they opened, he saw a flash of fear in her eyes; uncharacteristic of both Daenerys and Emilia.

“Emilia?” Matt probed before Kit could.

She blinked and turned to the director. Then her eyes glanced to all of the crew around them, all staring at her expectantly; some confused, some bored. Most of them went back to adjust their equipment but her brows raised in some panic and anxiety. She looked lost.

Knowing that feeling having experienced it too many times before, Kit subtly reached for her and squeezed her fingers to find them ice-cold, “can we get a coat over here for a moment please?” she glanced to him, unexplainably afraid, “I’m freezing,” he added, lamenting as a cold gust of wind swept over them.

“Sure, Kitten,” someone called out mockingly and laughter rippled across the crew.

“Thanks,” Kit shouted after the person who went off to grab a coat and Kit watched him go impatiently. He turned back to Emilia, seeing the fear more clearly now in her knitted brows and tight jaw. He wanted to cup her face so badly but knew it would be inappropriate before others so he tilted his body, his back to the wind. A silver wisp of hair flew wild by her temple and Kit strained a smile as he gently pushed it away, his finger brushing her skin.

She looked up at him, her doe-shaped blue eyes fluttering as she leaned into his touch ever so slightly. Kit glanced behind her to see a crew member approaching, clutching one thick black coat. Kit stepped to the side and took the coat from him, muttering his thanks. Kit shook it out before he turned to her, with the coat open. She hesitated.

“Just for rehearsals,” Kit muttered as he stepped up to her and tucked the coat around her shoulder. He was just short of taking her arm and tucking them into the sleeve when she relented, wearing it. Kit pulled it close in front of her and zipped it up before buttoning it. _You’re so little._ He felt a smile tease the edge of his lips. She was gazing at him when he reached for her freezing fingers and squeezed them before he reluctantly deposited them into the warmth of the pocket, which he knew will afford her more warmth than his own cold hand, “you’re welcome,” he whispered teasingly as he took a step back from her so he stood at a more socially appropriate distance.

She rolled her eyes but Kit did not miss the way she smiled and hunched lower into the coat. She looked infinitely better than before, the fear and bewilderment on her face now gone. “Sorry about that,” she turned to Matt.

“No problem,” Matt smiled, “we’ll continue rehearsals from ‘you’re not sure…’. Emilia,” Matt cued.

Emilia nodded and turned to him, “you’re not sure how you feel about that,” she told him. Her tone was stoic, iron; that of a Queen. Then Emilia turned from him haughtily, a sassy look on her face that annoyed Kit and, at the same time, made him want to grab her, hug her to him firmly and kiss her till she was moaning into his mouth.

_Fuck._

He glared after her as he took a step after her, “no I’m not,”

“How many men did your army kill taking Winterfell back from the Boltons?” Emilia asked him, a smug smile on her lips. _This cheeky girl._

He took a breath so he would not laugh as he replied, “thousands,”

“We both want to help people,” she said, “we can only help them from a position of strength,” she looked down, “sometimes strength is terrible,”  

Completing their rehearsal, they turned to Matt, “good one with the tone on ‘you’re not sure how you feel about that’, Emilia,” Matt called, “the expression could use work,” Matt teased.

Emilia’s cheeks flushed pink as she flashed him a thumbs up. Grinning, Kit brought his cold fingers to her cheeks to find them as he expected, warm. He pressed the back of his fingers to them, trying to warm them for a split second before Emilia scowled and pushed his fingers away.

“Alright, let’s prepare for the actual filming,” Matt called. The costume department stepped forward and Kit moaned in complaint as he spied the heavy cloak they were about to throw over his shoulders. He knew they made his shoulders sore when the filming hours stretched on.

Emilia rolled her eyes beside him as she reluctantly unzipped her jacket, “stop fucking whining,” she said, “you’ve got abs to hold them up for fuck’s sake,” he grinned proudly at the reminder of them, that is until he felt her hand on said abs, patting them to the amusement of the entire crew.

The moment he got the cloak on, Kit grinned as he realised they fluttered in the wind behind him, like a superhero cape, “Milly,” he called to her and she turned her eyes to look at him from her phone as the hair department touched up on her wig. He grinned and positioned himself facing the wind before he spread his cloak out behind him.

He was rewarded with the sound of her strident laugh and the sight of her gorgeous grinning face. The crew members laughed around her but Kit only saw her smile, so wide they scrunched up her eyes. He felt his heart hiccup and encouraged, Kit flapped his arms a few times, hearing the wind catching the cloak.

Emilia made her way over to him the moment the hair department was done.

“Beautiful, aren’t I?” Kit hollered to be heard over the winds, repeating the lines of their scene regarding the dragons.

Emilia giggled, “wasn’t the word I was thinking of,” she played along, “more like annoy-“, she yelped, tipping over from a strong gust of wind. His throat tightened.

She laughed, as she regained her balance and resume her trek over, “be careful!” Kit scolded. Her almost fall did little to dampen her amusement as she approached, a sort of permanent joy etched on her face. Assured that she wasn’t going to fall, Kit lifted his cloak again.

“Dracarys,” Emilia giggled out.

Kit laughed and roared like a dragon. She was laughing so hard now Kit could see her frame trembling from it. She reached up and wiped tears from her eyes before she lifted her phone to record.

Puffing out his chest, Kit put on a tough face; a fearsome dragon and flapped his arm. The wind brought her giggles to him and there was only so much stoicism he could put on at the sight and sound of her almost keeling over herself in her state of euphoria. He chuckled just as the crew called for them.

“I’m sorry what?” Emilia quelled her laughter and stopped filming.

“We’re starting!” Matt called out.

“Alright,” Emilia replied before glancing to him and giggling.

They got into position, Emilia still trying to quell her laughter and school her face into that even remotely resembling Daenerys’. Kit averted his eyes from her, knowing a glance of her giggling face would send him into a spiral of chuckles as well. Matt then shouted for filming to begin and Emilia was a picture of professionalism. They went through the scene they rehearsed quickly.

Daenerys began walking and Jon’s feet automatically walked, keeping stride with her; anything to stay a moment longer in her presence. _Her voice… it’s as lovely as her sweet face,_ “how many were slaughtered when your men took back Winterfell from the Boltons?” his heart pounded with dread at the recollection.

 “Cut,” Matt called.

In a flash, Emilia stood beside him, no longer Daenerys, “loads,” Emilia goaded, her voice squeaky and extremely unlike Daenerys’.

Kit fought a smile as he saw her cheeky one. Looking away from her, he marvelled at how quickly Emilia regained her own, vastly different, personality from Daenerys’. It was honestly comical how she does it; tickling Jon as much as it does Kit. Knowing she was watching him for a reaction, he couldn’t help but concur with her, mimicking in as high a pitch as he can manage, “loads,” her smile made playing along with her completely worth it.

After that take, they did more takes for editing and as the day went on, the slight but present furrows between her brows deepened; as did Kit’s worry. Despite that, she delivered in every take. Kit turned from talking to Matt about his scene with the dragon, searching for her when he saw her sitting in her chair. Her head was propped up on her arm, which sat on the arm of her chair by her elbow. Her eyes were closed and her brows were knitted just so.

“We begin in five minutes,” Matt patted his shoulder and Kit nodded absently, already making his way over. She seemed asleep and Kit could not get rid of the feeling that something was deeply wrong today with her. She rarely, if ever, doze off on set. She always struggled to sleep in public places. _Is she feeling ill?_ Kit wondered as he squatted beside her chair, gazing at her. He wanted to feel her forehead for signs of any fever but didn’t want to wake her.

A cold gust of wind blew over them and Emilia’s lips turned down in a frown. She adjusted her head on her knuckle, her eyes not opening. A visible shiver rippled over her body, discomfort plain on her face. _She is always afraid of the cold._

Kit stood and carefully positioned himself between her and the wind. Adjusting himself, he was frustrated to realise because of their position on the clifftop, it swirled around them relentlessly. _If only I could take you in my arms; I could keep you warm then._ The cloud then gave way to the sun and Kit was thankful for the warmth it will provide her only when the rays shone straight onto her face. She squeezed her eyes tighter, as if her eyelids could keep out the sun. Shifting, hunched over her, Kit watched his shadow fall across her sleeping visage. It was then she settled down, her frown abated, as did her furrowed brows. He smiled, watching her for a long moment. _I would shelter you like this for the rest of my life if I could. Do you know that Milly?_

 

**Emilia**

_It was getting worse._

She finally admitted to herself when Candice removed her wig and her dull brunette hair was revealed.

When she had first felt it, fear had seized her so completely she could only freeze where she stood. The first stab to her head, so unlike a common passing headache, was alarming and then sobering, like a splash of cold water over a nice dream she has been living. She had been gazing at Kit, wondering how life could have been so good to her; for her to have him within her sight almost all the time of the day. It took not only a moment for all of that to turn on its head. Instead of looking at the man she was contented to spend the rest of her life alongside like this, she was looking at the man she could lose in a blink of an eye.  

_“I’ll see you again in 3 months for a check-up,” the doctor has said. She had frowned then, puzzled, “once you’ve had an aneurysm, the chances of it happening again increases. Whether it be from the same place or somewhere else in your brain. In your case… we found a smaller aneurysm on the other side of your brain. There is a possibility it could remain dormant and harmless. So we will keep a close eye on you from now on,”_

Emilia did not forget what the doctor has said to her. _How could I?_ She had merely decided not to let it get in the way of living, whatever little time she was given. She had went back for her check-ups and the doctor has always assured her everything was fine, as far as he could see from the scans. The aneurysm has not grown even a millimetre. Emilia herself had felt well.

Until now.

_Now. When I am the happiest I have been for months. When I am exactly where I want to be. When I am with him._

Tears flooded into her eyes and Emilia sank heavily into the couch. She buried her face into her folded arms. Even now, she could feel the throb in her head. It was not nearly as intense as she had felt before she had collapsed and was brought to the hospital a few years ago but it was painful enough and it has lasted all through her day of filming. She sat there, waiting for the pain to double till it was nauseating. The fear that ate her up from the inside was as crippling as the pain itself and what it meant.

 _You’re not having a brain haemorrhage. Not now. You’re not having a brain haemorrhage and you’re not going to die. You’re not going to die. You’re not going to die…_ She bit her lips against a rising sob _. You’re not going to die._

A loud knock startled her so badly she almost fell off the couch.

“Milly,”

A sob of relief left her body and she wanted nothing more than to wrench the door open and curl up against his chest. She stood on shaky knees and crossed her trailer towards the door. With her hand on the knob, she hesitated with the mental image of an agonised look in his dark eyes, the way his face would twist with pain, at lost for what to do if she told him. _I couldn’t do that to him. Not now-_

 _Fuck that._ She could hear Kit telling her. _I want to know. I want to be there for you._

It was the same day Kit had made her promise him she would never hurt herself. He cared for her like no one else outside her own family have. As much as he laughed with her, he hurt with her every time she hurt; his pain so palpable through his eyes. Instead of pulling her from the agony that seemed ingrown in her since her father’s passing, Kit was with her. He weathered those moments with her, silent as he soothed her as best as he could. When she pulled away, his eyes were always wet and swollen as well.

“Milly?” the uncertainty in his voice, as if he was suddenly unsure if he was wanted broke her. _Of course you are wanted…_ She pulled open the door and there he was.

His curls were windswept, the tip of his nose was red and his eyes seemed watery. He looked utterly freezing and exhausted. They have went their separate ways after their scene together on the clifftop with Kit having to film his scene with Drogon. She has wrapped first that day and she supposed Kit has just finished his scene on the clifftop. Glancing up at the darkening sky, and it being October in Belfast, Emilia wasn’t surprised he would be freezing.

She reached to pull him into her trailer for warmth just as he took a step towards hers. Their bodies found their respective spot against the other easy enough. She reached for his pale cheeks, wanting to warm them up with her hands but his hand found her forehead first while the other cupped her cheek. His fingers were cold against her skin but the feel of them warmed her up.

“ **Are you alright?** ”

They blinked owlishly at the other. Kit barked a laugh so loud it startled her.

She managed a weak smile at the sight of his face lighting up through her throbbing head, “are _you_ alright?” she reached up and cupped his bearded cheek. As she expected, his skin was ice. His eyes fluttered and he nuzzled into her touch. A soft sigh left his smiling lips and the sight of it tugged at her heart, “how was filming?” she asked gently.

His eyes slipped shut. A hand slipped into her hair from the nape of her neck while the other hugged her to him around the waist. Her breath caught when she felt his cold fingers brush the skin of her neck before they buried themselves in her hair, “good,” he whispered, the smile etched on his face, “my co-star was good,” _a green sausage…_ he opened an eye a crack probably in time to see the puzzled raise of her brow, “better than my co-star in the scene before,”

She scowled but could not bring herself to shove him away as she usually would with that silly lopsided grin on his sweet face. _Oh Kitten… what have you done to me?_ She let herself remain flushed against him, issuing evidently much-needed warm to his freezing body.  

“Are you feeling better?” he whispered, properly opening both his eyes to gaze down at her. She pursed her lips, glancing between his eyes as she wondered if he would think she was being ridiculous if she voiced what was bothering her. Then his half-closed lids widened as he presumably saw her red-rimmed eyes, “Mils?” his fingers loosened in her hair and he cradled her head instead. His brows furrowed with concern.

_I want to be there for you._

She could hear him say. Then she blurted, surprising even herself when she didn’t merely say it but sobbed it, “I have a headache,” through her fear, Emilia knew how stupid that sounded; how trivial. She steeled herself for Kit to laugh it off and tease her. _He’s probably had about a hundred headache today, after sharing a scene with me._

She would understand if he did tease her. She has yet to tell him about her previous aneurysm and having a headache seemed painfully unassuming in the grand scheme of things without knowledge of her history.

For all she did to ready herself, Kit paled. A shuddering breath left his lips and he suddenly seemed more terrified than she felt, “f-for how l-long?”

“I don’t know,” her eyes welled up with tears and she shook her head, “I think this afternoon, during filming but I don’t know if it is just the cold or- or that something is wrong with me-“ she hated the way her voice wavered, the fear showing through the cracks. She wished she could be strong, as strong and brave as he seemed to think she is.

“No,” he whispered but she knew from his tone he wasn’t talking to her. Rather, it sounded like a prayer. He pulled her to him, his hand cradling her head gently to his chest and she eagerly went. She took a deep breath of him and a thrill ran through her when she could not find even a trace of cigarette smoke on his skin. The scent that clung onto him was very much Kit, her Kitten; earthy, amber from his cologne, salty sweat from an entire day of filming. Then he was gone. His hands cradled her face between them as he gazed earnestly into her eyes, “you have to go to the hospital,” there were tears welled up in his eyes.

Dread sank deep in her stomach, its claws twining around her throat, tightening so it was hard for her to breathe. She hadn’t realised she feared going to the hospital even more than sitting through the pain. She shook her head violently.

“Milly, they can help you,” he said, “they can find out what’s wrong, if there is a-anything at all,” he choked out.

She shook her head obstinately. _No. No, I- I- no._

She stumbled back from him, retreating deeper into her trailer, farther from the door and out of his reach. But Kit wasn’t letting her. His brows furrowed deeper, “Mils…” he said weakly.

“Kitten, I don’t want to go,” her voice was thick, with fear, with pain, “I don’t want to go,” she cried, “I want to stay right here,” _right here with you._

“We have to find out what is wrong, why you are having a headache…” Kit reasoned. He hesitated on his next words but said them after a moment’s pause, “before it’s too late-“

“No, I don’t want-“

“We _have_ to,” Kit frowned. It was obvious he was getting anxious. She pursed her lips, too scared to move, “let’s go,” he reached for her arm.

For the first time in a long time, she avoided his touch, wincing, “I DON’T WANT TO GO!” he visibly startled. Emilia didn’t remember ever raising her voice at him. He froze, “I want to stay here,” she pointed as if it would help her articulate her point, “I want to stay here…” her voice got smaller, “with you,” she whimpered. She couldn’t look at him; couldn’t bear to, knowing any moment with him, any sight of him, could be the last, “the hospital…they’ll take me away and I may never come back,” an audible breath left him and before she could avoid it, his arms crushed her to him, “Kitten…” she whispered, “I don’t want to go,” she fisted his shirt and pushed herself closer to him wishing she could sink right into him, “I don’t want to die,” the words left her with her exhalation.

Silence blanketed the trailer afterwards. Neither dared to take an audible breath. His body stiffened against hers and his firm arms tightened their grip around her, “I won’t let them take you,” every word weighed heavy in her chest, where they took root. Each one of them collected the pieces of her and pulled her together, holding her steady from within. It was then she realised he was shaking around her, “I’ll be right there,” she felt his forehead nudge the top of her head and she tilted her face up to meet his dark, wet eyes, “and you’re not going to d-“ he choked over his words and his face contorted with agony, “you’re _not_ going to _die,_ ”

 _How do you know?_ She wanted to ask him, fear gripping her heart as the pain stabbed at her head, spreading to behind her eyes. His tears that dampened his cheeks fell into his beard. The continuous trail of it continued onto his neck. Following it with her eyes, they suddenly flickered and blurred. She tried to blink it away, thinking it could be her tears. She looked up at him, trying to see his face but could not see much beyond a blur. It was like he was behind a translucent wall and for a moment, she was petrified that he might disappear behind the darkness, “Kitten,” she panicked, calling out for him.

“Hey…” he whispered softly. She felt his thumb brush her cheek and she stilled, revelling in his tender touch and the gravel of his painfully soft voice, “you’re okay. I’m here. I’m right here,” Emilia felt a sudden calm wash over her despite her impaired vision and the crushing headache. She drank in and clung onto every word like she would a lifeline, “I’ve got you,” she could feel his arm around her waist; strong, firm and unyielding, “I promise,” He was the only thing grounding her in her state of pain and disorientation, in her moment of fear and uncertainty. He was her centre.

* * *

She could see him now.

He was racing, keeping pace, with her even as the paramedics wheeled her away. They looked mildly annoyed at him but little did they know, he was the only thing keeping her from leaping from stretcher and making a mad dash away from this place.

For the thousandth time, she watched his eyes flicker up to take in their surroundings before looking back down to her, forcing a tight smile. She’d always offer him a small smile for every one he managed to force onto his lips, for her.

She felt him slip his hand into hers and squeeze her fingers, “I’ll be right here, Milly,” he told her firmly just before a nurse in scrubs stopped him with a gloved hand on his shoulder. She felt his fingers slip from hers, “I’ve got you, always!” he said before a curtain was pulled across, concealing him from her sight.

But she wasn’t scared. Not like how she thought she would be. _He_ is _right here with me…_ Emilia realised. She could feel him; his fingers clutching hers, his thumb against her cheek, his lips against her forehead, his arm around her waist, his body flushed against hers.

“Kitten…” she mumbled before she tore her gaze from staring at the curtain, where he previously stood. All around her were masked hospital staff.

“Ms…Clarke,” a woman spoke and she found her eyes. _Brown. Dark but not dark enough,_ “do you know where you are?” Emilia tried not to flinch as she flashed her torch into her eye.

“A hospital,” she said. She was surprised she didn’t ask her for her name first. She has had her fair share of twenty questions in her previous hospitalisation, post-surgery.

“Good, do you remember how you got here?”

She nodded, “an ambulance. Two paramedics, one of them is pretty fit,” she joked. In truth, she did not even spare either of the paramedics more than a glance. She was busy memorising the way the hair of a certain Kitten curled, wondering how someone’s hair could curl so perfectly with minimum to no styling or treatment done.

Chuckles erupted around her and Emilia felt instantly warmer, “well, that lad out there waiting for you right outside, as he promised, is pretty fit too,” Emilia felt her cheeks flush as she inwardly concurred, “do you know why you’re here?”

Emilia swallowed before she said, “I have a headache,” she quickly added, “I have been having this headache for a day. I had a brain aneurysm a few years ago-“ she closed her eyes as she tried to recall, “three years ago. A brain haemorrhage… it- the aneurysm ruptured…”

The lady whom Emilia assumed was the doctor nodded, “yes, you had a stroke,”

“Robbed me of my good taste in men,” Emilia chuckled nervously.

The doctor paused, before she chuckled as well, “unlikely, if your sweet dashing lad is any indication,” her chest swelled as the doctor conferred Kitten as hers and sang his praise, “Ms Clarke, can you describe your headache to me? Anything in particular happened that might have triggered it…?”

She shook her head, “I was working. The headache… it’s not as painful as three years ago with the haemorrhage. But my vision… it blurred and was gone for a moment…”  

The doctor nodded before she said earnestly, “Ms Clarke, I am going to order a series of tests for you to determine if you are having a bleed in your brain,” her heart lodged in her throat, “or it could be an unruptured aneurysm,” she tightened her jaw so much so it started to ache, “or it could be a simple migraine. Alright?” Emilia nodded mutely as the doctor’s eyes crinkled in a smile that was concealed by her mask, “you’re awake and extremely coherent, which is good news,” she told her softly. Emilia forced a weak smile. The doctor then turned to the nurse, “get her a CT scan, stat,”

With that, a flurry of activity erupted around her and before Emilia knew it, the curtains were pulled back and there he was, as he promised. His hands were clasped together and one hand looked to be wringing the fingers off the other. His face was pale, his brows knitted with worry. The moment the curtains were pulled back, his eyes darted and stayed on her. The nurses began wheeling her away and Kit fell into step beside her. Craning his neck, he gazed down at her, “I’ve called your brother. He is going to inform your mother and they’ll be here as soon as they can,” she nodded, smiling; immensely relieved that her family would be here soon.

“Thank you,” she said and Kit frowned, shaking his head in firm dismissal. There were deep furrows between his brows and a pained look in his eyes, “it’s probably nothing,” she told him, “the doctor said,” she lied; only partially.

Kit shot her a mildly accusing look, instantly aware of her efforts to soothe his worry, “Regardless, I’ll be here. For as long as want me to,” his gaze darting down, Kit clumsily found her hand amongst the thin blanket as he struggled to keep pace. He held her hand firmly and yet, gently in his large, now cold hand. _He’s scared._ She realised.

He pressed a searing kiss across her knuckles. Her skin tingled from the familiarity of it and an intense shiver that had nothing to do with the cold, erupted down her spine as a memory, which she had been unaware of, from a long time ago was awakened.

The way his lips felt, the sound of his voice, the feel of his beard against her skin as his lips kissed her the way they always kissed her; so tender and yet firm as if he couldn’t kiss her hard enough. No one kissed her like that, ever.

_It’s you._

She has suspected when he first said the exact same words to her in her trailer. But now, she knew it in no uncertain terms.  

 _It’s not Cory. It is you all along._ She gazed at his lovely face, marred with distress but all the same, her heart expanded in her chest. _It’s always been you._

With that realisation, she found the strength to tell him, as honest as she has ever been with her own heart and him since they broke up, “I will always want you to,” his gaze faltered and he seemed taken aback. His lips parted but Emilia wasn’t sure if it was from the surprise of her words or if he had a reply ready.

“Sir, you can’t go past this point,” they turned to the nurse and it was only then Emilia realised they have stopped.

Kit nodded mutely, in a daze as he stepped back. She gazed at him sadly as she readied herself to let go. As her hand began to slip from his, Kit blinked, snapping out of his daze, “wait,” he blurted, his voice cracking. He met her eyes then. Forcing a smile, he held her hand in both of his and pressed another kiss to the back of it, his eyes slipping shut. This time he lingered. His brows rose in a sort of pain and a shaky breath left him through his nose. She felt his lips curve into a smile which she wish her own hand did not conceal from her.

His eyes opened and he let her go as gently as he had took her hand. He swallowed and stood back, more decisively now.

“Wait for me, Kitten,” she said as she was wheeled away.

Without missing a beat, he replied, “I’ll wait forever if I have to,” the wrinkle in his forehead, the mischievous twinkle in his dark eyes and the smirk was exactly the same as it had been, six years ago.

Despite the cold and unpleasant smell of the hospital, the uncomfortable stretcher, the sharp pain in her head and the crippling fear that seized her as she was taken from him, she couldn’t contain the giggle that bubbled from her, now warm, belly. His chuckle followed her as she went through the double swinging doors.

* * *

The look in his eyes were incredibly soft as he gazed at her, standing by her bed just out of her reach. She could not look away as she took in the beautiful sight of his face, tired but lovely. She smiled a small smile and he returned it before he eventually approached her bed.

The nurses had wheeled her here to wait for them to collect her results and allow the doctor to review it before promising the doctor will come and take to her about it later. Kit had followed her quietly and watched as they situated her bed and left. Then he had stood there, gazing at her quietly. She wanted him to come closer. She wanted to hold his hand. She wanted to kiss him. But she didn’t want to shatter the calm that blanketed the room.

She held her breath in anticipation for his touch but Kit stopped by her bed as he asked, “are you cold? Do you need extra blankets?”

She smiled. _It really was you._ She could not have been surer of that fact now. She had woken to the warmth three blankets, she was tucked under, provided her in New York after her surgery. Shaking her head, she said softly, “hopefully I won’t be here long enough to trouble the nurses. They are busy enough,”

Kit chuckled. It was then did he make to settle in the chair beside her bed. She made a noise and patted the space beside her bed. She wanted him closer than that. Kit hesitated for only a moment before she felt the bed sink as his warm body filled the space beside her thigh, “how are you feeling now?” he reached for her and as his finger brush her temple, her breath caught in her throat.

“Better,” her sharp headache has dulled to a throb but she felt unbelievably fatigued, not unlike how she had been in the months after her surgery, “tired but much better,”

Kit’s eyes darted across her face, doing his adorable little evaluation if she was telling him the truth. She supposed she should feel resentful that he was doubting her but simply couldn’t resent him when he looked at her, so concerned and with a gaze so soft. “good,” he sighed eventually, smiling a genuine, if not a little sad, smile.

“Kitten…” she started, not knowing how to broach the topic that was weighing on her mind.

His eyes held hers, curious and open and his brows raised slightly expectantly. When she did not continue, he looked down and placed his hand over hers. Through the blanket, she could feel his thumb caressing her across her knuckles, “don’t you worry about anything. I’m here,” he whispered down to her hand.

Laying down, so tired and weak, she had never felt more vulnerable, “I know,” she blurted. He looked up to her, “I know now, Kitten,” he raised a brow, still confused, “you were there, in New York. You were right there with me,” realisation melted into his features slowly and his thumb froze on her hand, “I felt it. I felt you. I heard you, from a thousand miles away in a place no one else but you could reach me,” then a flash of pain entered his eyes, “but when I opened my eyes, it wasn’t you,” she frowned, tears prickling her eyes as she recalled how confused, scared she had been when she saw a face so different it might’ve been foreign to her, “it was Cory. And- and I thought it was Cory all along. I thought I had felt safe with him, I thought he was the one who saved me; how you’ve saved me…” _I thought you left me._ There were tears in his eyes now too and she wanted nothing more than to wipe them away but his hand weighed heavily over hers, completely still, “I didn’t feel safe with him. I didn’t love him, or Seth, or Jai. I didn’t want them,” she gazed sadly as more tears found their way into his beard, “Kitten,” she waited for him to meet her eye.

He did not. His watery gaze was stubbornly fixed on a spot on the blanket. Chuckling weakly, she reached for his hand with her other one. When she took his hand in both of hers, his eyes tentatively found hers.

“It was always you,” she whispered so softly she might’ve only mouthed it, “it will always be you,”

He stared at her, astonished. She gripped his hand, scared when he does not say even a word in response. Every second that passed with him staring at her as if she wasn’t real, as if he was looking right through her, lodged painfully in her throat. Her heart was open for him. In the past, he might’ve met it with a joyful laugh, a kiss and all his love. But now, there was nothing. The room grew colder and Emilia fought to weather it, determined to wait. She held his hand in both of hers as if her life depended on it. But she couldn’t stop a single thought that came to her mind: _You are too late._

“Emilia!”

She startled but not as much as Kit did. He tore his hand from her fingers as he spun around. The lost of his hand in hers and left her heart only emptier. He stood from the bed and greeted her mother and brother, frazzled. She could barely hear him or her mother before her mum sat where Kit was and hugged her gently. Then her mother turned to Kit and hugged him in deep gratitude. They have met a couple of times on set or at events when Emilia brought her mother. 

Emilia’s gaze stayed on Kit as he retreated to the back of the room, letting her mother and brother shower love and concern upon her. His eyes were casted down, staring vacantly at the ground. He looked utterly lost and the sight of him like that broke her heart. _Is that it, Kitten? Am I too late?_ Her eyes filled with unshed tears. _Tell me._ With what was left of her heart, she willed him to look at her, to spare her even a glance when in the past, she couldn’t for the life of her get him to look away. She had lost count of the number of times his intent gaze had her blushing.

His head tilted up, just slightly, as if he had heard her but his eyes hesitated to rise to meet hers. Then a knock resonated. Emilia forced her gaze from Kit to see the woman from the emergency department and another older male doctor standing at the door. She tensed, her fingers opening and closing, in search of the one hand that it knew would fit so perfectly between them, whose touch will comfort her immensely. The female doctor took in the people in the room. Ever so polite, Emilia watched her mum introduce herself and Bennett, a picture of calm. In these moments, Emilia truly admired and envied her mother. She did not inherit that ability.

Both doctors greeted her mother with a warm smile and a handshake. Then they turned to Emilia. The older male doctor introduced himself to be a doctor from the neurology department. Then he continued. Emilia held her breath, steeling herself for the news that she has a ruptured aneurysm, again, and would need to be operated on, again, “the CT scan came back clear,” her mother’s audible sigh of relief encompassed Emilia’s own even if she herself did not express it, “and the smaller aneurysm, I believe you know of it-”

She tensed and she felt her mother’s hand grip her arm. They did know of it.

“It has grown a little but if anything, it remains harmless and there is no need for us to operate at this point,” the doctor finished.

Emilia stared at him. She supposed she should be crying with relief, like her mother looked to be about to do but Emilia simply felt empty. Then he spoke, his voice lifting her from a fog so thick she hid it in, “what about her headache?” she could hear the relief in his voice regardless of his question.

“You mentioned it affecting your vision. It could have been an optical migraine that can be caused by stress. Has anything traumatic happened your life recently, Ms Clarke?” the reminder of her father’s absence, permanent from her life, twisted her already battered heart and wrung it dry of her life’s blood as Emilia could only lay there in bed, blanked face as she contemplated all that she has lost and what, who, she was on the verge of losing.

“My husband passed away a few months ago,” tears automatically filled her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” the doctors said, their tone low, hushed.

“Thank you,” her mother replied on their behalf. Emilia stared at the ceiling, wondering how much more of all this, of life, she could take. She was no fool. She treasured her life, something that she woke everyday knowing that in a way, she was living on borrowed time. It made her work twice as hard and smile twice as much. Even through the agony of her reopened wound at the reminder of the loss of her darling father, she knew how lucky she was; how filled her hospital ward remained.

She knew her mother sat by her on the bed, her brother perched at the foot of her bed and Kit… _Kitten._ Even if he had nothing for her declaration of love but silence; even if she was truly too late and he has had to stand the farthest in the back of the room simply because he thought he was only her best friend who he didn’t have a place among her family. Despite it all, he didn’t leave the room. _I promise._ She could hear him say.

Surrounded by them, she knew she was loved; by her mother, her brother. And him. She was loved by Kitten too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References to the Second verse chapter 12: Aneurysm for Kit's words he said to her and repeated in this chapter. And also mini reference to the First verse Chapter 3: Kitten for his sweet wait-forever line that he had said then too. 
> 
> Alright, whew. Here it is, the massive monster of a chapter with fluff and angst. Sorry if you got cross-eyed reading them all.  
> A pretty big chapter for the plot here with the two of them (at least one of them) actually communicating (OMG! Finally?). And also, the first time I am deviating from reality (kind of) with Emilia's second aneurysm being present at this point of the story and still in her head instead of being resolved. 
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Do leave me a comment to let me know what was your favourite part in this massive chapter :) If you don't have a favourite because you hated it, feel free to leave a comment about it too but please be respectful (to the characters too!)


	5. Doubt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “It’s a weird thing isn’t it, when you seriously have the hots for someone but you don’t, you know, you don’t trust them [chuckles weakly]. That’s hard.” 
> 
> \- Kit Harington (Games Revealed Season 7 Episode 4, 2016)

_October 2016, Belfast, Northern Ireland_

**Kit**

Immersed and enraptured by the story he was reading, Kit eagerly thumbed the book and flipped the page. His eyes immediately found and clung onto every word on the next page. Thus, Kit startled when he felt a firm hand on his arm. He was slouched in bed, his lower back supported by a pillow and his neck and head supported by another. He was so caught up in reading his book he hadn’t realised Emilia had been done with her shower. _She probably snuck up on me on purpose._ Kit narrowed his eyes at her as she crawled closer to him.

She lifted his arm as if he were a possession of hers, and not a human being, and ducked under it. Then she let his arm fall over her shoulder. Planting her head on his chest, a gentle hand resting on his rib, Emilia curled her petite frame up against his side, rather decidedly in Kit’s opinion. _I guess it is bedtime._ He watched her amusedly. _It’s her usual spot to curl up and sleep, as it has been for many days._ Adoration for this exceedingly annoying person, who now often took liberties with him, snuggled against him by her own doing, made his chest expand and his toes curl. Protectiveness and a sort of frightening possessiveness came over him and Kit would take her into him if he could.

Unable to help himself, as subtly as he can, he allowed his head to lower to her dark brunette hair. He took a whiff and to his delight, her jasmine shampoo filled his nostril. He huffed in amusement when she nuzzled her cheek against his chest like she would a pillow and if possible, snuggled deeper against him. Her fingers pressed possessively into his skin, “are you reading Harry Potter?!” she scoffed, sounding tired.

Kit made a mild noise of acknowledgement and tried to go back to reading his book when in fact, he could not take his mind off the sweet weight and warmth of her on him; the way her hand was now caressing him over his ribs; and especially…the feel of her breasts pressed up against his side. His fingers twitched with the urge to feel them. He knew they would be warm, soft and would fit perfectly in his hand. He missed how she would arch her back and push them into his touch. He wanted to hear her moan as he teased the darkening, pimpled tips of them so they hardened eagerly. He licked his lips, knowing she loved his hot mouth and moist lips on her breasts, and all over her body really. But most of her… _she loves my lips and tongue on her cli-_

“Read to me,” she commanded sleepily. Flustered, he swallowed and tried to calm himself down. Glancing down, Kit was glad she got to him before he got too, visibly, excited. Then Kit rolled his eyes at how bossy she was being. However, she whimpered pitifully, her bare knee, courtesy of the shorts she wore, coming up to rest on his thigh. _And now she’s completely ready for sleep._ Kit thought. The familiarity of it warmed him to the core and tugged at his heart to comply with her demand.

But first, he shifted to lay down. She whimpered, reluctant to move but she did, along with him, “shall I prop your bottom with a pillow as well and tuck you in?” he asked sarcastically, “your royal highness,” 

She hummed, “that would be nice,” Kit could hear the amusement in her voice.

Kit held the book with one hand, marking the page he stopped at with his finger as he reached for her unused pillow with his other hand. Grabbing a handful of it, he swung it down and it smacked right into her bottom. Kit could not help but wish it was his hand and not the pillow. She giggled loudly. Leaving it where it was, Kit reached around her and tucked the blanket around them; around her. Feigning a huff of annoyance, he opened his book from where he left off and began reading.

“Are you going somewhere? Said Harry,” Kit read aloud, “Er, well, yes, said Lockhart, ripping a life-size poster of himself from the back of the door as he spoke and starting to roll it up. Urgent call, unavoidable, got to go. What about my sister?!” Kit exclaimed louder and he felt Emilia’s body shake with silent mirth, “said Ron jerkily. Well, as to that – most unfortunate- said Lockhart, avoiding their eyes as he wrenched open a drawer and started emptying the contents into a bag. No one regrets more than I-“ Kit paused dramatically, “You’re the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher!” he exclaimed and he heard a giggle, “said Harry. You can’t go now! Not with all the Dark stuff going on here!”

“I love your voice, Kitten,” she whispered, softly and slowly. Her voice was thick with undeniable emotion despite her fatigue. She then nuzzled her cheek on his chest again and it was then he felt her warm lips press a firm, searing kiss to the spot where his heart was pounding against.

Kit fell silent even as his eyes stayed glue to the next line which was on the tip of his tongue.

Shivers ran down his spine from the kiss and every inch of his body coiled in sweet desire for her. His hammering heart swelled and soared with unbridled joy. He wanted to throw the book away and hug her to him and kiss her sweet face and neck till she was breathless from giggling. He wanted to wrestle her onto her back, nestle himself against the sweet, moist spot between her legs, and bury himself so completely into her no one would know where he ended and where she began. He wanted to hear her cry of delight, see her face contort with pleasure, her eyes gaze up at him with so much love he could barely comprehend it. He wanted to feel her fingers comb through his hair and grasp them by the roots before she’d pull him to her so he could fall onto her lips. He wanted to feel her sweet, wet, pulsing warmth around him as he fall into and for her, again and again.

But at the very same time, his stomach sank with dread and fear. He wanted to nudge her off and flee from the room entirely. The conflict gnawed at him and Kit felt an unexplainable urge to cry.

For the first time since Emilia returned from the hospital, he allowed himself to think of it. _It was always you._ She had said to him in the hospital and it had surprised Kit but her next words had stunned him into silence. _It will always be you._ Those words were simple, but meant the world to Kit. With those words, she had practically sworn her heart to him; _always,_ she had said. Kit had fallen asleep to those words on his heart and his mind every day since that day. While he was on the verge of sleep, it made him so simply happy he had drifted off on dreams rather than nightmares. He had never felt so accepted and loved like that from anyone but his family, for a very long time. He felt enough to just _be._  

But he was also undeniably frightened when it came to him unbidden while awake, when he could clearly remember how she had loved him so fiercely once as well and yet, could steel herself to tear them apart, completely tearing _him_ apart. Even if she loved him, Kit knew first-hand what she was capable of and Kit could not help but selfishly guard his wounded heart from the one he yearned for the most; the one he loved through all the sorrow and pain he had felt because of her; the one who held his heart in the palm of her hand since he met her; the one whom, he knew deep down, he belonged with.

With her, he felt like himself and he was happy for it. He was good.

Except. _I am not good anymore… am I?_

Then Kit began to wonder... She had said _always_ but she didn’t know who he was now. He cheated, one too many times on Rose... He smoked like a chimney most days till even the longest baths and numerous showers could not rid him of the stench. He also drank, excessively and almost uncontrollably and when that is not enough for him and the opportunity presented itself, he took so much drugs till he passed out. _Does she know those things about me? If she knew me as who I am, now; if she knew I was so broken, will she still love me?_ Kit felt his stomach sink and lurch nauseatingly as he realised. _Of course she wouldn’t… she wouldn’t keep me when I am whole… why would she have me when I am broken?_

 _Who could love a cheater, a drunk, a smoker and a druggie all in one?_ Kit felt his eyes fill with tears as he stared up at the ceiling. He felt like a black hole has opened up beneath him and threatened to swallow him whole. _No one can. No one will._ His gaze flickered down to her. _Even you don’t have a heart big enough for who I have become…_

He blinked and felt his tears fall from his eyes and sear a path across his temple before sinking into his hair and pillow. He lowered the book to the side and lifted a hand to wipe at his eyes. As he was about to lower his hand from his face, he felt her shift. He gazed down to her just as she tilted her head back to gaze up at him. He met her eyes.

And he saw himself.

He was the only thing in her eyes. For a moment, Kit felt like who she saw; just a man who was lying blissfully under the woman he loves. He was a man who managed to leave his pack of cigarettes and his lighter back in his hotel room when he went to her; who has not touched drugs for a long time; who has not drunk himself unconscious for a while; who have not broken down into his pillow in the middle of the night since he came to Belfast. He was a man worthy of the love she bore him; the love with which her eyes shone.

He lowered his head to her as she craned her neck up to him. Their lips met and sparks erupted through his body and across every inch of his skin. His chest expanded and swelled so much he thought he would burst. He shivered as he delved deeper into the kiss, exploring the depth of her sweet mouth when she quickly granted him access to. She so thoroughly and eagerly tasted his mouth then that he felt his cheeks warm and his toes curl at the welcomed invasion. Her lips felt better to him than any substance he has ever had, making him wondered why he even bothered with them. She sighed into his mouth and Kit felt a smile grace his lips at the singularly happy sound. But it wasn’t another moment later till she was pulling his lip between hers so she could torment it, torment him, with her teeth.

He groaned when she nipped him sharply. She shifted and Kit could only crane his neck and tilt his head to follow her, unable to part from her lips; the only thing that mattered to him in that moment. She was the only thing that mattered. He became aware of his own body when she took his limp hand from the bed and placed it on her breast. His other hand automatically came up to cup her other breast. Her hand squeezed his. Encouraged, he gently kneaded them.

A soft moan escaped her lips. He felt the tips of them grow hard too quickly in his palm through her thin shirt and he grinned proudly against her mouth, “shut the fuck up,” she panted in a whisper into his lips. A laugh left him unexpectedly as he gently teased the tip. To his delight, her breath hitched audibly, her lips stilling against his as she arched into his touch. He claimed her lips in a bruising kiss, a silent plea for them not to stop and she responded eagerly. Her lips felt incredibly soft as melded sweetly against and around his. It felt so perfect. As it had been years ago, there wasn’t a doubt in Kit’s mind that they matched, like the only two piece to the puzzle. _I am meant to kiss you; my lips are made to fit just right against yours._  

Her fingers combed and tangled in his curls before they tugged insistently at his roots so firmly his head tilted back into the pillow. Her touch was electric, racing down his spine and he was suddenly extremely aware of how much he ached for her within the confines of his boxers. A guttural sound left his lips and his hips bucked and thrusted blindly. He then realised she was straddling his waist; how she got there was entirely lost on Kit. Torn, he eventually lowered a hand from her breast to her thigh. He traced the familiar curves of her calves, her thigh and hiked up her shorts to find her bottom. _I miss you so fucking much._ A low growl emitted from him as his fingers dug into her soft flesh.

She gasped and rolled her hips back, pushing her bottom into his hand. He gave her another firm squeeze, revelling in the shape of her and the feel of her warm skin. She whimpered, her hips bucking down. It was then he felt the brush of her against his erect length through his boxers.

 _God!_ He moaned. _Milly… I want you._ Clutching her bottom to hold her in place, his hips came up to meet hers on its own accord, desperate to finally join with her but was impeded by their clothes. She sucked in a breath and her lips slid from his to press kisses on his bearded chin, and down his neck. Her lips burned her kisses into his skin and Kit opened his eyes to glimpse the warm dark brown of her hair. _Am I dreaming again?_ Despite the doubt, the sight of it made him smile and he buried his face and pressed soft kisses into her hair. He took a deep breath of her scent laced with her jasmine shampoo. This felt more real than any of his dreams.

She pulled back from him all of a sudden and tugged insistently at his shirt. Without a moment of hesitation, he sat up momentarily and allowed her to remove his shirt. She tossed it away before he felt her small hands on his bare chest, pushing him back into bed. He met her eyes to realise that they were smiling and the look in them as she gazed at him was incredibly tender. He smiled before his fingers tugged at the edge of her shirt playfully. He could see her hardened nipples, courtesy of his previous ministrations, through her shirt and at that sight, Kit wanted her more than he thought a person could want another. A whimper slipped from between his lips as she pulled his fingers away, still dressed and made to lean down to kiss him.

She paused at his whimper of protest. Then she laughed.

As Kit was pondering if he loved that sound more than the sound of her moans, she removed her shirt in one fluid motion. He sucked in an audible breath, his last for a while, and his mouth dried, making it impossible for him to speak. He drank in the sight of her exquisite curves; her shapely hips, her small waist, the delicate ridge of her collarbone, the shape of her shoulders, and – _oh god –_ the delicate curve of her breasts. She was almost glowing in the dimmed yellow light, her alabaster skin flawless but for a small mole here and there that if it is even possible, enhanced her perfection. He ached to touch her and at the same time, did not dare to for fear to sullying her with his own, suddenly grossly, imperfect hands.

His gaze then flickered up to her face, eager to meet her eyes only to notice that she wasn’t looking into his eyes. Her eyes were gazing at bare body so intently Kit wanted to hide himself if not for the look that could only be sheer, untainted adoration and love in her eyes. She looked as entranced by him as he was, by her. Her brows rose down the middle, her face softening as she reached for him. Her hand was trembling as she brushed his cheek. Her eyes filled with tears then and her lips curved into an elated smile. She cupped his cheek, more firmly. Kit leaned into her touch and her eyes disappeared behind her smile.

She finally met his eye when he sat up, yearning to be closer to her. Looking into her eyes, Kit couldn’t for the life of him remember why he thought himself imperfect. She held his gaze as her lips brushed his and Kit couldn’t look away as they gently sampled and savoured the sweetness of the other. Her eyes fluttered close momentarily as she pulled away, his lips following her. When she opened her eyes, a tear escaped her eyes and Kit chased the path it seared down her pink cheek.

“Kitten,” she croaked, “am I dreaming?” her thin voice wavered.

The words, so close to his heart they could have been taken from his own lips, made his stomach twist, “I don’t know,” he whispered. _Maybe I am…_ “does this feel real?” he wrapped his arm around her back, a lump forming in his throat at the feel of her bare skin. And he hugged her to him, revelling in the weight of her on his lap and the sensation of her body up against his; her warm, perfectly unmarred skin pressed to his. She chewed on her bottom lip as she nodded to him. She looked so vulnerable then Kit realised he would do anything to make this real for her, “and this?” he asked before he took her lips from between her teeth to his. He kissed her soft, plump bottom lip lingeringly. She hummed in part agreement and contentment,

“What about this?” he whispered against her lips. Drawing confidence from the way her lips responded, ardently kissing him, Kit allowed his hands to caress her beautifully nude torso; from her hips to her breasts. She pulled away from his lips just enough to emit a breathy moan as she nodded in agreeance. He ducked his head to kiss her breasts thoroughly, teasing and pleasuring her. He heard her suck in a breath and began panting, her hands grasping his shoulders firmly. Her hips then began grinding into his lap, moving along his length. He gasped into her heated skin as he felt her sodden shorts begin to moisten his thin boxers.

“ _Kitten_ ,” she whispered. With surprising strength, she pushed him from her breasts to lay back and as he hit the pillows, she shifted off him just enough to draw his stiff length from his boxers.

His eyes rolled to the back of his head at her touch, “ _fuck_ ,” he cursed loudly, feeling himself twitch in her hand, embarassingly eager for her touch. A giggle made him open his eyes and he gazed at her in disbelief. For how in sync they always were, for the first time, the humour of the situation she detected escaped his notice entirely. 

“Are you alright, Kitten?” she teased, amusement lacing her tone but her eyes were dark with want, the gold in them entirely blotted out behind her enlarged pupils.

“ _Shut the fuck up_ ,” he growled through gritted teeth. _I want you… I want you so much…_ With a smirk, she let him go entirely and Kit felt himself fall solidly on his chiselled abdomen. Without missing a beat, she lowered herself onto him. He watched in sheer anticipation as he felt her heat on him. He groaned as she rubbed herself up and down the length of him, the thin, sodden fabric of her shorts between them. He thrusted and twitched against her in vain, desperate to be inside her now; to truly _be_ with her. But for how perceptive she was to his needs, Emilia only smirked as she rolled her hips languidly from the base of him to the swollen, red head.

His hips bucked up to hers but she had rolled her hips back. Even if she didn’t, Kit knew it was impossible with her shorts between them.

_Why do I want someone so annoying, so fucking much?_

He squeezed his eyes shut and groaned in frustration. Then he heard a low moan from her and his eyes opened, widening at the sight of her above him as she slid along his length. Her body was arched, her head thrown back, her lovely face tilted towards the ceiling, her eyes shut and her lips parted with pleasure, “oh Kitten,” she sighed, her voice thick. 

 _If this isn’t the most beautiful sight in the world…_ Kit breathed, his frustration ebbing away as he admired the wonderful sight before him. Gritting his teeth against the cresting tension in his testicles, he cupped her breast with one hand, teasing her with his thumb while his other hand wandered between them. Taken aback with the copious moisture that have now entirely soaked through her shorts, his fingers fell into a practiced, familiar motion against her swollen nub through the fabric. She gasped, her body shaking as she struggled to maintain the rhythm of her hips.

He had half a mind to pull aside the fabric of her shorts and slip into her but he would not, not unless she wanted it. So he gritted his teeth and tried to ignore how good it felt to have her heat, which he knew would only be infinitely more intense from within, pressed up against his length. Channelling every inch of his concentration he can garner in this moment, he persevered in his ministration, rubbing, pinching and stroking her just as he knew she liked.

Soon enough, she peaked with a loud, raw cry. Her legs quivered and sandwiched his hips firmly between her thighs. She grounded her hips to his, squeezing his painfully hard length.  He grunted, fighting it but felt a bead gather at the tip all the same. She began trembling, her eyes squeezed shut and her face contorted in almost pain. Riding over her last wave, she fell boneless against him and he eagerly collected her in his arms, cradling her against his chest. He steadied her as she shook.

“ _Kitten_ ,” she uttered, her voice thick and unlike her own. Kit realised he liked the sound of it all the same. Her searching hands grasped his arm weakly, trying to hold him to her.

“Milly…” he whispered, “I’m here,” pressing a kiss to her temple. She hummed; a sweet contented noise as her body relaxed against his.

Still shaking, she turned her head and peppered his bare chest with kisses. A hot breath left her lips and brushed his skin, causing it to pimple, before she lifted her eyes to meet his.

His breath stilled entirely as the raw, undeniable look with which she gazed at him made an unwitting shiver pass through his body. He smiled. _She loves me_.

Holding his gaze, she pushed herself up on weak, shaky arms. Then he felt her slide down to his thigh as she retrieve his length from his belly and began stroking him. Her fingers gently massaged him, focussing on the crown that grew only more sensitive from her touch. His body reacted and the tension low in his abdomen, already built to the point of snapping, grew. He took the shallow breaths that he could only manage at this point. His hips bucked and snapped up, searching for more. She laughed and bit her lips as her hand that was stroking him grew firmer, just as he needed. The other hand gently reached under the base of his length, finding him tight and throbbing on the verge of his peak. She cupped him before she rubbed tenderly. Pleasure shot through his body, setting every nerve poised and alight for her touch. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, his mind unable to even begin to comprehend how she made his body so desperate for her; how she made his heart stutter and sing at the same time.

_But you’re not the man she thinks you are._

His smile faltered and the fear crept in.

_She would leave you. She has before and you were complete then, not broken as you are now…_

“Emilia,” he croaked out, his voice halting.

He supposed he wouldn’t blame her if she did not stop, he could be groaning his pleasure for all she knew. But she stopped. Because she knew him. And he felt an ache deepen at the doubt his heart could not help but cast upon them and their connection that is so pure, so definitively present, “Kitten?” she frowned. Her voice was so tender, Kit’s breath hitched and he wanted to cry.

 _I want you._ He wanted to tell her. _I- fuck- I really do. More than I have ever wanted anyone._ Her eyes searched his face, confused and concerned. _But I have to know... do you mean it? Do you mean it when you said it will always be me? Do you mean it truly? Will you still want me if you knew I am broken? Will you still want me when things got difficult? Will you leave…? Again._ His eyes filled with tears despite how hard he fought against them.

“What’s wrong?” she scooted closer to him, settling on his abdomen as she leaned over him. He felt the tips of her fingers brush his cheek, uncertainty clear on her face. He shook his head, gritting his teeth against more tears, “Kitten, talk to me,” she whispered.

Gazing up at the face which he had dreamt of countless times, Kit swallowed, “do you love me?” his heart was palpitating rapidly in his chest as he asked her; as he would in his dreams.

Kit could see the surprise in her eyes and that was what he loved about her. She wore her heart on her sleeve and at every new discovery, he only found he loved her heart even more. He saw the split second during which she gazed across his face, as if to assure herself, before she said, her voice clear, her answer ringing definitively, “yes. I love you,” his chest expanded and Kit felt infinitely lighter. He hadn’t realise his entire being had tensed and coiled, waiting and praying for her answer until upon hearing it, he sank into the mattress in relief, “I love you very much,” her cheeks grew pink and Kit saw the exact moment she frantically began looking for a place to hide. Eventually, she found her favourite spot to hide her blushing face; against his chest.

 _That’s the answer I dreamt, the answer I prayed for... but she has the right to know._ “I am not the same,” he choked over his words, “I’m not the Kitten you knew,” she shifted so she could peek at him, her lips against his chest, “I smoke, I drink, I-“ he hesitated, “I do drugs, I-“ her eyes grew sad, “I’m a mess, Milly.”

“It’s alright,” she tried to tell him but it was obvious she had no idea what to say, “we’ll figure it out together. If you don’t want to anymore, like with smoking, I’ll help-“

“It’s not that simple,” he cut in curtly. For the first time, he felt she did not understand, not in the least. But Kit felt an unexplainable urge to try to explain it to her, to _make_ her understand. It could have been the look in her eyes, open, curious, concerned; it could have been the fact that it is her, “it’s not about what I want, not anymore. It doesn’t feel like something I can control…” he felt a lump formed in his throat as he looked at her. She hasn’t changed at all, still perfect. Then, he wanted so badly to be who he was years ago when he had first met her; good, complete. But he knew it was impossible. He could never go back to be who he was, the person who completely deserved to be her other half in this world.

“We can get help if you need it…” she said softly.

 _And she still doesn’t get it…_ “And where can I get help for cheating?” her face blanked but her body tensed against his. Kit forced himself to continue even if it hurt him to say these things because he knew how much it would hurt her, “I am a cheater, Milly. I have been cheating on Rose, more times than I can count with random birds I meet at the bar, after I’ve drank too much and snorted a line of coke. I-“ Emilia stared at him with a look as if she did not recognise him. _There it is… she realised it now…_ “I’m cheating on her now,”

She could not hide her wounded look no matter how hard she tried. She recoiled from him. Kit did not think it was possible for her to withdraw from him so quickly. Neither did he think his heart could hurt more than it did to say those words to her. But as he watched her scoot as far away from him as she could, pulling the duvet up to cover herself, his heart wrenched and he began shaking. She was no longer looking at him and Kit did not know what to do.

_At least. She knows now. She knows who I am; a terrible person, a complete mess. Not someone she would want, not someone she could love. Not anymore._

Schooling his face to that of complete calm, he numbly sat up and tucked himself back into his boxers. He picked up his shirt from the floor and pulled it on. Slipping his feet into the bedroom slippers he wore to her room, he turned to the door. Emilia was still where she was when he turned to wear his shirt, her duvet over her. She was not looking at him but staring down at the bed. Her eyes were strangely devoid of emotion.

“I’m sorry,” Kit rasped out just before he turned and fled from the room. He knew he had to tell her, at some point. He wanted her to know, to truly know who he was now. But Kit wondered how it could be right when what he did felt so very wrong the moment he saw the hurt in her eyes.

The moment he came to his room, he made a beeline for the pack of cigarettes he had tossed carelessly on the bedside table. He could not even wait to be in the balcony before he lit it up. He glanced to the still made bed to realise he could not remember ever sleeping in this bed. Her bed had always looked more welcoming to him even if it was two floors from his room. His bed in his room simply looked cold.

_There it is… you’ve lost her again. She’ll leave… like she did the first time. And like the first time, even if she loves me… she will leave._

He emptied his pack of cigarettes too quickly. Chucking the empty box into the trash, Kit pulled on his jeans and a black t-shirt, grabbed his wallet and left the room.

_If she is going to leave… why does it feel like I have left her instead?_

Kit shivered as he stepped out into the cold, empty streets. He wanted to buy another pack but on second thought, Kit found himself making a beeline for the bar, his body antsy for anything that would help him unwind.

 

**Emilia**

She knew he was troubled. She wouldn’t recommend her own therapist, Sarah, to him if she didn’t think he needed it. But the fact that he had to rely on substances to help himself despite therapy broke her heart.

_He’s with Rose._

She told herself for the thousandth time. Her face felt numb and her eyes swollen from crying. But no matter how many times she told herself that, she wished he was here with her, she wished they have made love, she wished he was hers; no matter how much of a mess he seemed to think he was, she wanted all of him. The only thing stopping her was the guilt…

And at his reminder, she knew she was the worst person ever for wanting all of that; for still wanting all of that even after he had reminded her.   

A fresh wave of tears came to her eyes and she buried her face into his pillow, trying to muffle her sobs. His pillow smelled like her lavender pillow spray and him. He had taken to use the spray for himself whenever he slept over now.

_I want you, Kitten. I still want you. Even if you smoke, you drink, you do drugs, you cheat on Rose… even if we cheat on Rose… I want you. That makes me a terrible person, as terrible as you seem to think you are...will you want me then? Will you accept me then?_

She sniffed and pulled her face from the pillow. _I will ask him._ Blinking and wiping her tears away, she swallowed. Since he had left, practically fleeing, she will go to him. Emilia simply could not stay here; away from him. Her mind made up, Emilia pulled herself from her bed. Her tired body screamed in protest but Emilia got dressed all the same. Grabbing his room card, the extra one, from her vanity, and her phone, she wore her loafers and made her way out of her room. Kit wore her bedroom slippers and she had not the slightest clue where the other one has gone. He had probably worn both her slippers to his room without realising.

She made her way to his room, eager but scared. She wasn’t afraid of him, she could never be afraid of him. She was afraid of what he would say. She was afraid he would reply her words of love with his doubts; self-doubt, doubt of her and doubts of them. But she wanted to know what he felt, despite his doubts. And she will ask him.

She knocked on his door, for the sake of courtesy. There was no reply so Emilia slipped the card in and opened the door. The first thing at hit her was the strong smell of cigarette. She glanced around the room to see the bed still made, untouched. The balcony door was left open but the smell in the room told her he had smoked in the room. She frowned, puzzled as to where he could have gone at such a late hour. Then she saw the packet of cigarette in the bin.

She picked it up to see that it was empty. _He bought this only this afternoon…_ Her heart twisted painfully as she thought of him in his room alone, smoking stick after stick. She knew he would be crying, as he had been when he left her room. Worry constricted her throat and Emilia took a steadying breath to calm herself as she left his room. As she walked down the corridor to the lift, she drew out her phone and found his contact easy enough.

 **Where are you?** She sent it just as the lift doors closed.

The lobby was empty but for the staff and some guests who were just checking in. She lowered her head and quickly went past them. All the while, she thought of where he would go. When she got out of the hotel and into the cold, freezing street, she looked down to see that he has not seen her message, much less reply it. _Where would you go at this hour?_

She recalled his pained expression as he left and knew instantly he would be at a bar. Not the one in the hotel because he probably didn’t want company.

_The Spaniard._

A quick check of the time told her that it would be closing soon as well. Emilia quickly walked over, knowing the way by heart by now. It was her favourite pub to patron here in Belfast and it was Kit’s as well.

On the way there, she glimpsed a group of blokes standing around and she instantly averted her glance and quickened her pace. Fear gripped her like an old friend from the past and she swallowed. They saw her, “hey babe!” one of them raised his hands, waving her over. It was obvious they have had a bit to drink.

She hunched lower and walked faster, “hey come on! Babe! We’re fun,” she could’ve sworn that sounded nearer to her than previously despite her walking away and she was terrified. She didn’t dare to look up however.

She kept walking but the voices kept following her. Flashes of her time in New York came to her, where men started heckling her for a good time when they got tipsy. She started running mid-stride and panic twisted around her throat and constricted her airway. _No please... the white of the hotel room sheets... a large pale, calloused hand grasping her wrists and pressing them above her head... an unmovable weight on her hips...she couldn’t move... she couldn’t run..._

A sob broke past her lips into the quiet of the night and she found herself in the middle of the street, alone. The voices were growing more distant. _They’re gone... they have left me alone..._ It took her a long moment to collect herself and catch her breath. Then the remnants of fear made her walk, half jogging, the rest of the way to the Spaniard.

When she got there, she could see lights from within. With a breath of relief to be where she could find _him;_ where she would have some semblance of safety, Emilia pushed open the door to be hit by a sweet blast of warm air. The place was almost empty as well. There were two blokes chatting in the corner and the bartender. Emilia scanned the place with her eyes again and spotted a figure in the corner, at the bar. She had missed him the first time because of how unmoving he was. 

Concerned but careful, she approached the man. He was hunched over, his face on his crossed arms. When she got closer, all the doubt of the identity of said man was gone. She would recognise his black t-shirt, tight fitting jeans, boots and head of raven curls anywhere. Relief flooded into her to have found him relatively unhurt. She placed a gentle hand on his back, “Kit,” she shook him.

He did not stir and she got worried. She glanced to the empty glass before she looked up at the bartender who was already watching them, “that’s his eighth glass,” Emilia frowned, “I was worried how to get him out of here…”

“Sorry about that,” Emilia said automatically. She dug into her pocket for her wallet to realise she did not bring it with her. She only had Kit’s and her own room card, “he hasn’t foot the bill, has he?” the bartender shook his head and Emilia hurriedly reached for his pockets. She drew out his wallet from his back pocket and handed the bartender a card, “here, sorry,” the bartender smiled thinly before he went away.

Emilia slid into the seat beside an unconscious Kit, “Kitten…” she shook him by his arm, harder this time. His body rocked with every push but he did not even stir. Emilia sighed, wondering who she should call to help bring him back to the hotel.

Then she heard a phone go off. She checked her own to see the screen dark. Then she looked to Kit and glanced to the bar to see his phone lying face down. She turned it over.

**Rose.**

There wasn’t a picture of her but only her name. Emilia swallowed, supposing that was a good thing, she didn’t think she would have the courage to pick up if there was a picture. Wondering if Kit wanted her to pick up, Emilia shook Kit again as hard as she could but Kit only murmured incoherently before turning from her.

Huffing in frustration, Emilia picked up the call and tentatively pressed the phone to her ear.

“Kit! Darling, where are-“

“Um, hullo,” Emilia said quietly. Rose fell deathly silent on the other end of the line and Emilia continued, “it’s Emilia,” she said redundantly, “Kit’s passed out at the bar and I heard the phone ringing so…”

“Which bar?” worry made her voice go up an octave. _Of course she would be worried, Rose loves him too…_

“The Spaniard…” Emilia replied, wondering why Rose was asking. She was in the States, busy auditioning for a new role. Kit hadn’t known what role it was and only knew it was big. Emilia remembered chiding him playfully for not asking.

“At this hour?” Emilia didn’t know what to reply to that, “I’ll be right there,” Rose said and hung up. _What?!_ Emilia blinked, wondering if she heard her wrongly but when she thought to ask, the line was already dead. Emilia was stunned for a moment, her astonishment interrupted by the bartender returning Kit’s credit card to her.

“A-a friend is coming over to help me with him, it would be around…um…” _how long does it take for someone to come from the States?_ “10 minutes,” Emilia lied, “would it be alright?” Emilia asked weakly, noticing he has cleaned up all the cups and the pub looked ready to close. She quickly added, “or you can help me with him to the curb outside-“

“Nah, it’s fine, 10 is fine,” he smiled and went away.

Emilia nodded, smiling gratefully. _We’ll be out on the curb after 10 minutes then… every minute in the warmth is better than one in the cold…_ Then she turned to Kit. He was still passed out with his cheek pressed against his arm. _Kitten… My silly Kitten, why are you so intent on torturing yourself?_ She couldn’t help but brush her finger to his cheek gently. His beard felt rough. She followed the path of it to his chin, where it got significantly thicker. Emilia always felt an unexplainable fondness for beards but particularly his. She liked the feel of it, coarse against her skin but the way it scuffed against her skin was comforting; familiar would be a better word, Emilia supposed. Playfully, she tugged at his beard.

A furrow formed between Kit’s brows and he pursed his lips, pulling his face from her as much as he could.

“Kitten, wake up,” she bit back a giggle as she tugged at his moustache. He grunted, looking annoyed but stubbornly remained passed out, “Rose is coming here now,” she hissed.

The furrows between his brows deepened and his brows rose. It was evident he was trying to wake, “wha-?” he murmured before he slumped heavily against the bar, “Milly…” he murmured then, his eyes slipping shut. She could’ve sworn the edge of his lips twitched up as he murmured her name.

The sight of him struggling to wake and failing to, tugged at her heart and she just wanted to hug him. Emilia could have snorted at herself if not for the increasing urgency of the situation, “wake up, Kitten,” she nudged him and tugged on his arm but he felt immensely unmovable. He emitted a mild noise of acknowledgement before he settled again. She sighed and without more help, she could do nothing but sit there. Her gaze unwittingly found and settled on his face. _This sweet, handsome face…I used to wonder if this is the face of the man I would fall asleep to every night and wake up to every morning for the rest of my life._ Emilia mused, recalling a night quite like this one in which Kit has been drunk as well.

_I still wonder…_

_Hope would be a better word…_ She thought dryly.

“Kitten,” she shifted to sit closer to him. A quick glance around her told her that they were the only people left at the bar other than the bartender who was nowhere in sight. She leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to the spot before his ear. Then she whispered, “there is no one else for me but you…I said it and I meant it. No matter what happens. No matter what you do… You will always be ‘Kitten’. I will always love you and want you and care for you…” Emilia fought against the tears threatening to well up in her eyes, “but what do _you_ want, Kitten? Who do you want? Tell me,” _Do you want me?_

His brows rose and he seemed to be fighting sleep again. Emilia willed him to open his eyes and reply her. She willed him to have heard her though his alcohol-induced slumber.

She heard the door being pulled open and instantly, she scooted back into her seat, wiping her eyes. As she lowered her hand, she turned to the direction of the corridor that led from the door to see Rose; her red hair windswept, her freckles cheeks pale. Emilia felt a pang in her chest as she gazed across the room to meet her eyes of her once-best friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I'm really sorry about the wait especially when I hear that some of you guys check this page everyday to see if I have updated (you guys are amazing!). Thank you so much for hanging in there even if this story and the relationship in it is going slow. 
> 
> I read all your comments (I'll go back and reply them as soon as I can so please bear with my replies) and they are really inspiring to me to write :) Keep them coming and I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. 
> 
> If any of you are wondering, the next chapter will pick up right where this one left off.


	6. Rose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never got to work with her [Emilia] until season 7. That’s a long time to be experiencing the same show and also the same kind of journey, me and Emilia, because we’ve followed the same path. We both came out of drama school and this was our first big show, and we became kind of the ice and fire of it all a bit—the two youngish leads, I guess. Probably the closest to what we were each experiencing was what the other person was experiencing.
> 
> I think we’re good mates because we, maybe more than anyone else, know what the other one’s going through a bit. I don’t mean to sound like we’re going through the worst thing in the world. But I think no one else other than Emilia will know exactly what being on Thrones is like, the way we’re on Thrones.That’s really how we kind of bonded.
> 
> \- Kit Harington (Esquire, 2019)
> 
>  
> 
> My father was traditionally very Conservative and my mother very Labour, so previously I went Lib Dem, but I don’t know how I’ll vote this time. I feel somewhere between Labour, Green and Lib Dems. But I was sympathetic to the way Lib Dems behaved in government; they had to show the country that a coalition could work and stand up to the Tories. Although they did fuck people on tuition fees.
> 
> \- Kit Harington (The Guardian, 2015)
> 
> “There’s an unhealthy obsession in America with royalty and the class system,” says Harington, rolling his eyes. “‘Oh, my God, you’re the son of a duke!’ I’m not an anti-royalist, but who gives a shit?”  
> His disdain for the old ways carries over to one of GoT‘s competitors in the prestige-soap-opera sweepstakes. “I really disagree with Downton Abbey on lots of fucking levels,” says Harington, before admitting he hasn’t seen many episodes. “It celebrates the class system, and its kind of overall message seems to be, ‘Wasn’t it good when everybody knew their place within society?’ Why should we hark back to those times? It was bullshit. We got out of that, and thank the fuck we did.”
> 
> \- Rolling Stone, 2014.

**Rose**

Rose did not know what to expect when she saw the Spaniard from afar. She knew Emilia was with him and knew not if the other cast members were there. But inwardly, Rose knew they were alone together. They probably have been drinking but Rose thought Emilia did not sound the least bit intoxicated over the phone; _Kit’s phone._

When she heard from Kit that the season 7 script detailed the meeting of Jon and Daenerys and how they were to fall in love throughout the season, eventually consummating their love, her heart had stopped beating entirely as fear thundered through her head.

How could she not be afraid? She loved the man, more than she has ever loved anyone. He was perfect for her, down to his family name. And this man loves another; the same person who would play Daenerys who Jon was supposed to fall in love with and end up with this season; the same person he would spend plenty of time with this season and probably see every single day; the same person who was equal parts gorgeous as she was charming and so innately _kind_.

In truth, Rose felt terrified. She started phone calls with Kit wondering if this would be the call he told her he was leaving her, for Emilia Clarke. Rose supposed a part of her knew how good they were together. Kit cared deeply for her only as much as Emilia cared for him; more than Rose wanted to admit. They interacted with such similar sense of humour and were so attuned to each other’s needs; there was something almost telepathic about their interaction. All this Rose had gathered from having a few meals with them years ago.

But despite all that, she was with Kit. Because she loved him. And because, regardless of whether Kit loved Emilia, Kit had asked Rose to be his girlfriend and chose her to be by his side. _There must be something I am doing right…He must love me… even a fraction of how much he loves her._

Taking a deep breath, Rose pushed open the door of the pub she had visited only a few times in the two seasons she was on the show. She never liked it there, too cramped and dark for her liking, but Kit seemed to be the most at ease in this place. And in the mornings, he liked to patron this greasy café that Rose never much cared for, even if Kit insisted they made the best latte.

As Rose expected, it was empty. _It’s fucking half past 1 in the morning, of course it is empty._ She had been up since early this morning and was extremely fatigued from her flight from the States. Rose could not help but felt a wave of irritation past through her when she saw her boyfriend, passed out at the bar. Beside him, a brunette was perched on the high stool; a face Rose once beamed at the sight of, her best friend. The same best friend Rose misunderstood and had hit in a fit of rage of injustice… Guilt seeped into her when Emilia turned to look at her. She looked a vision even in the dark, dingy pub and jealousy reared its ugly head.

Rose’s feet seemed to have frozen. Since the moment she found out from Kit that they have been together and Rose had completely misunderstood Emilia, Rose had imagined their meeting a thousand times in her head and thought about what she wanted to say to Emilia, how she would apologise for interfering in something she did not understand back then. But now, face to face with Emilia’s cautious, almost awkward gaze, Rose had completely forgotten what she wanted to say.

“Um,” Emilia chewed on her lip, “hullo,” she greeted as Rose came to a stop before her.

“Hi…” Rose shifted on her feet.

“It’s good to see you again,” a nervous laughter left her, “haven’t seen you in a while… how have you been?”

“Fine thank you,” she replied automatically, “and you?”

“Good as well,” Emilia nodded. Silence fell. Emilia blinked and turned to Kit’s prone form, gesturing, “sorry about this… he fucked up…”

“He?” Rose asked. Emilia looked puzzled, “not ‘we’?” Emilia opened her mouth before closing it, seemed at lost as to what to say before she finally caught the amused smile Rose had on her lips and the mischievous look in her eyes.

Emilia chuckled, “hey, I resent that completely. Kit is the one dragging me down,” she gestured, “evidently,” Rose mirrored her chuckle, “he… was a little upset and…”

Rose nodded knowingly. It did not escape her notice that Kit smoked and drank a lot more than he used to these past few years, “alright, we should get him back to the hotel before he passes out for real and completely,”

Emilia huffed exaggeratingly and Rose felt herself relax, even if just slightly, “I tried to wake him but he refuses to get up…” she complained.

Chuckling, Rose siddled up to Kit’s other side, “Kit,” she squeezed his shoulder but he was faced away from him and did not even budge. Rounding him, she wedged herself between Emilia’s chair and Kit’s. She slapped his cheek a few times, “Kit Harington,” Kit murmured, seeming to be trying to say something but it was something she couldn’t make out, “come on, open your eyes,” Rose cupped his warm, flushed cheek. She had missed him dearly, “don’t you want to see me? You haven’t seen me in what… weeks?” she leaned over and kissed him soundly on the cheek, hoping her kisses would rouse him.

“Mm…I want you…” he murmured, clearer this time.

Rose blinked, taken aback. He has never said that to her. He was always a man who did rather than said. If he wanted her, he would sweep her up and kiss her and pound into her in almost a frenzy. There would be no words from him. She felt her insides tingle and warm at the sound of his sweet words. His voice was at a gravelly pitch that made her want to kiss him and have him make love to her endlessly.

Kit then said, “Mil-“

“Alright, let’s go!” Emilia declared loudly. Rose turned to her, raising a brow and Emilia looked sheepish, “I promised the bartender we would let him close the pub… it’s already past closing…”

Rose nodded and turned back to Kit, “come on Darling…” she looped her arm through his and tugged his arm from under his head.

Kit frowned and groaned his protest, “I want y-“

Rose blushed, “I know,” Rose shushed him, glancing to Emilia, “later,” she whispered, pursing her lips against a smile at how insistent and vocal he was. Emilia was averting her eyes and her gaze was trained on Kit. With a strong heave, Rose managed to pull his arm free. Kit lifted his head before his head lolled forward towards the bar uncontrollably. Emilia lunged forward and held his head with a hand on his forehead, saving him from banging his head on the wooden counter.

“Alright, time to go home,” Emilia sang. She took his other arm and threw it across her shoulder almost in a practiced way. Rose wondered idly if Emilia has escorted him from a bar, drunk before. Rose herself knew she hadn’t. All the same, she threw Kit’s arm across her shoulder, following Emilia’s lead.

“Home?” Kit murmured. His eyes seemed glued shut and he was heavier than Rose anticipated.

“Yes,” Emilia answered through gritted teeth as they guided him from the high stool and to his feet. Kit’s knees folded under him and Emilia shrieked, trying to hold him up. Rose lurched forward but managed to keep her hold on him, “Kitten please try to stand,” she growled out, “so… _fucking_ …heavy,” Rose had no idea how Emilia was even talking with the manual labour going on.

To both their surprise, Kit laughed. Then he seemed to gain some semblance of control over his lower limbs. His knees straightened and he was supporting at least some of his weight. As they made their way out of pub, Emilia called out her thanks to the bartender and they wedge themselves through the door.

“Should we get a taxi?” Emilia panted. It was so cold her breath rose in fog under her nose.

Rose nodded, feeling her arm begin to ache from supporting Kit’s weight. They looked around but the street was empty and Kit felt heavier with every passing second, “stay awake Kit,” Rose snapped, the sight of Kit falling asleep stirring her ire as fatigue and hunger gnawed at her.

Emilia turned to her, and Rose knew she was surprised. Instead of saying anything of it, Emilia suggested, “should we walk towards the hotel, we could pass a taxi on the way?”

Rose sighed, nodding. They had no other choice.

“Let’s go,” Emilia enthused but Rose could practically hear her shivering. Emilia wore only one layer of clothing, as did Kit. Both of them did not seem prepared for the cold, “one foot in front of the other, Kitten,” she coaxed. Kit’s head was lolling forward as his eyes slipped shut. Rose might’ve slapped him if both her hands weren’t occupied. Then Kit lolled his head to Emilia’s side. As the petite brunette stood shorter than Kit, his cheek pressed into the side of her head, “fuck off,” she huffed.

Kit laughed, albeit a little weakly, “you’ll freeze if I do,” his voice was beginning to tremor from the cold.

“I would rather freeze,” Emilia shot back.

“No you hate the cold!” Kit announced to the entire street, his voice echoing.

They both hushed him, “shut the fuck up,” Emilia hissed but Kit ignored them both and Rose glimpsed his arm tightened around Emilia’s shoulder as his cheek stayed glued to her head. If Rose didn’t know he was pissed drunk, she would think he was trying to keep her warm. 

Rose turned away, unable to bring herself to look and see anything else between them she didn’t need to see and read too much into it. Then suddenly, Kit wretched, his mouth filling. He pulled away from Emilia and vomit spewed from his mouth, missing Rose just barely. Rose cringed and withdrew instinctively. Kit sank to the ground, throwing up the contents of his stomach and that was when Rose noticed Emilia kneeling on the ground beside him. Kit’s frame heaved as he threw up repeatedly.

Emilia tucked his long curls behind his ear with one hand while she rubbed his back with the other. A moment passed before Rose squatted on his other side and laced her arm around his, wanting to pull him up. Kit yanked his arm from her and Rose tried not to take it personally but she winced all the same and stood back. He wretched again and a fresh spew of vomit joined whatever was already on the concrete.

Then Emilia patted his shoulder. Kit dropped his heavy arm around her shoulder, “come on, let’s go,” Rose immediately came forward to support Kit on the other side as Emilia tried to help him to stand. Emilia then glanced to the mess on the floor regretfully.

Kit turned back to the mess blearily, “youwannacleanup?” he gurgled. It took Rose a while to figure out what he was saying.

Emilia bit her lips then glanced to the state of them before she shook her head, “we can’t I guess…” she sighed, “let’s go, you’re freezing,” she squeezed his hand which hung over her shoulder.

“You’refreezing,” Kit murmured back. Her hand was locked firmly in his which was hanging over her shoulder. In their tight grasp, Rose couldn’t tell who was holding onto whom.

“I’m fine,” Emilia snapped, “shut the fuck-“ Emilia paused and she halted in her step, pulling Kit and Rose to a halt with her. Rose glanced over to see Emilia’s eyes slipping shut and her nose in the air. A high pitched sneeze left her.

Kit’s boisterous laugh lasted all through their miserable walk through the hotel. Emilia sulked and constantly swore like a sailor. Rose remained a quiet observer; missing the sight of Kit’s face for not once did he turn to her.

* * *

 

An uncharacteristic giggle came from Kit as Emilia leaned over him to drag a wet flannel across his forehead. Kit’s heavy lidded eyes were open only a crack but they were open and gazing dazedly up at her. He had a huge goofy grin on his face. Emilia rolled her eyes. Emilia had made Kit drink as much water as he was willing; which was a lot with Emilia feeding and coaxing him, to prevent a hangover that Rose thought Kit deserved. 

Tearing her eyes away and trying to ignore the huge lump in her throat, Rose pulled Kit’s boots off his feet. Then she looked up in time to see Emilia toss the flannel over Kit’s face, looking annoyed but the moment his face was covered, a flash of a smile crossed Emilia’s face. Emilia turned to Rose then and froze like a deer caught in headlights. Rose knew she had been staring. Emilia blinked and looked around the room for something to do. Finding nothing in Kit’s empty, spotless hotel room, Emilia cleared her throat. Rose had wondered if they have gotten the wrong room when they stumbled into a room which did not look like someone has slept in it for a day much less weeks.

“I-um- I’d best be going then,” Emilia offered a strained smile but her eyes did not meet Rose’s. Rose did not reply and Emilia quickly turned to leave. Rose watched the brunette retreat towards the door and the only thing she could hear was the words of the man she loved.

 _Emilia will always be important to me. I will always care for her._ Rose could still see the look in his eyes with startling clarity. She don’t remember the last time he had looked so sure of something.

As Emilia left, Rose saw leaving a part of Kit that will always be closed off from her; if she let Emilia leave like this.

“Emilia,” Rose forced the word from her constricting throat. She stopped and slowly, turned. Emilia looked curious, “can we talk?” for someone with such an expressive face, Emilia’s face remained strangely impassive and Rose supposed she would not know what to feel as well; being asked for a chat by the woman who was once your best friend and who has hit you in the past over a misunderstanding, effectively but definitely ending that friendship. _A misunderstanding I have yet to explain and apologise for._ Rose found herself silently pleading that Emilia would consent. A large part of her wanted to know that side of Kit; the side that giggled, the side that was mischievous and loved to tease, the side that smiled easily, the side for whom the name _Kitten_ would be entirely fitting. But Rose could not deny that she also wanted her friend back; a sunshine in her life.

When Emilia smiled, Rose let out a breath, “you want a cup of tea?”

Rose almost laughed at that. _Nothing can’t be solved by a cup of tea._ Emilia used to say and apparently still say.

Rose turned to Kit to check on him one last time. He still had the flannel on his face and Rose chuckled. She pushed it up to his forehead to find him sleeping. Pulling the duvet over him, she tucked him in. Then she leaned over and kiss his cheek before she turned to find Emilia standing at the open door, staring at the door frame. Rose followed Emilia to find them going to her room.

“I doubt anywhere is open now…” Emilia muttered, “Clarke café it is,” she smiled hesitantly.

Rose chuckled and Emilia followed suit as she opened the door for her. Rose entered, a pang of fear striking her for what she would see. But rationally, Rose knew she was being paranoid. A strong smell of lavender hit her and Rose turned to see the large bed. It looked slept in, the sheets rumpled. She found herself staring at it as Emilia turned to get water for the electric kettle. She traced the way the sheets creased. Her stomach twisted nauseatingly when she thought she could see the outline of two bodies in the bed, not one.

“Sorry about the mess,” Emilia said hurriedly and Rose startled slightly, turning to her. Emilia glanced to the bed.

“You were sleeping before you went to the pub?” Rose asked.

“Yeah, getting ready for bed…” Emilia replied quietly, her back turned to Rose as she made two cups of tea, “Kit wasn’t answering his phone so I went looking for him,” suddenly the keycard to Kit’s room that Emilia had handed to her when they brought Kit back felt like it was burning in Rose’s pocket. _He just had an extra card…_ Rose told herself.

Shaking off the darker thoughts, Rose smiled, “thank you for looking out for him,”

“No problem,” Emilia shook her head, smiling over her shoulder but it was too quick. Emilia wasn’t really herself and Rose did not blame her. _What do you say to your best friend who had slapped you out of the blue and left?_

When Emilia turned to her, a cup of tea in her hands, Rose took it and muttered her thanks, “he looks happy…” Rose said before she sipped the hot tea. Emilia always had a knack of making the perfect cup of tea. Kit has always sang praises of the tea Emilia makes before she became a sore point of conversation between them, and never in front of Emilia.

Rose could have sworn she saw the edges of Emilia’s lips twitch up in an almost smile, “he loves his job,” Emilia said simply, “please sit,” she gestured to the empty chair as she sank into one opposite her.

Rose relented and placed the cup of tea on the table. For a moment, an awkward silence fell over the room. Rose knew she was the one who asked to talk but she hadn’t a clue where to start. In the end, Rose chose the easiest and also the hardest way, “I’m sorry,” Emilia raised both brows and Rose couldn’t tell if she was puzzled or surprised, “I didn’t understand what your friendship is… and I jumped to my own conclusions. So I am sorry... for acting on those conclusion I shouldn’t have come to in the first place…”

Emilia blinked, “Rose…” her brows shot up. In pity? Disappointment? Sadness?

And Rose found she couldn’t stand Emilia feeling any of those for her so she continued, “I didn’t know you two were together,” a nervous laugh slipped from her lips, “it definitely changes things… or the way I see things,” she picked at her nail, “you both were trying to move on from something and I just thought… I thought you were leading him on. So I am sorry, for the liberties I have taken… and most of all, for striking you like that,” tears pricked at her eyes. Rose shook her head, averting Emilia’s eyes now, not wanting her to see her tears, “nothing will justify that… I’m sor-“

Emilia stood and before Rose knew what was happening, Emilia pulled her to her feet and into a firm embrace. That broke the floodgates and Rose wrapped her arms around her shoulders as Emilia squeezed her around her waist, “you don’t have to apologise,” Emilia said, “it’s not your fault, you didn’t know,” she whispered reassuringly.

Rose bit back a sob as she now openly bore the guilt that has haunted her since Kit told her the truth.

“You didn’t know,” Emilia rubbed her back and Rose felt her middle warm. A long moment passed and Rose let a friend’s forgiveness, that she didn’t realise she had always seek, wash over her. And maybe, some of that friendship, some of that love that Rose didn’t realise she missed. Emilia pulled back first, her hands holding her face and wiping away her tears, “alright, enough crying for now. If it’s anyone’s fault it’s Kit’s,” Emilia smirked weakly, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

Rose let out a watery laugh.

Emilia smiled, “but you really care for him, if you would hit your best friend for him,” she teased.

Rose chuckled, “I love him,” she blurted, “more than I have ever loved anyone,”

Emilia’s smile became almost uncomfortably wide, “good,” a moment passed and Emilia dropped her hands from Rose’s face to reach for her tea and they settled back into their chairs, “he’s a good man,” Emilia took a sip, “well, he has his moments,” Emilia rolled her eyes exaggeratingly, “but he is good,”

Rose did not know why but she instantly recalled the broken mug Kit had broken in a fit of anger and the fear she had felt in his brooding, unsettling presence the days after, “yes he is,” Rose admitted, “but…” she hesitated but at the sight of Emilia’s teacup faltering from her lips as Emilia listened, “the past few months have been… difficult,” Rose felt a weight lift off her shoulders that she could finally share this with someone. She didn’t want to share it with her parents, fearing how they would reject him ultimately. She didn’t share this with her mates, not wanting them to judge him and by extension, them. She didn’t share this with her sister, afraid her sister will ask her to do the impossible; leave him, “Kit is…troubled,” Rose struggled to find the right words, “he hasn’t been himself,”

“Oh?” Emilia asked, her eyes darting down to her tea, “how so?” Emilia seemed a thousand of miles away but Rose knew she would be listening; Emilia was good at that.

“He is distant from me… I don’t know why. I considered that he could have been ashamed of the fact that he is seeing a therapist but I have been nothing but supportive in him getting help,” Rose found she could not close the floodgates once they have opened. Rose didn’t even realise she had so much to say until they were spilling out of her mouth, “it’s like he has this wall around him… I feel like sometimes he is just going through the motions with me. He doesn’t want to talk to me about the problems we face, he doesn’t want to find a solution, insisting there isn’t any. He doesn’t tell me about his problems either… even if I can tell something is bothering him. He just doesn’t talk,” Rose sighed, “I know people say communication is the key to a good, healthy relationship but what am I to do when Kit refuses to do just that?” Rose turned to Emilia, realising she was expecting an answer from her, the person who knew Kit best; even according to Kit.

Emilia met her expectant gaze and panic flashed across her eyes, Rose noticed amusedly, “er…um…” Emilia put her teacup down, “I’m no therapist, Rose…” Emilia said sheepishly, “far from it,” Rose waved it away, “but…” Rose nodded encouragingly, “Kit needs space to talk at his own time. He hides himself so well,” a fond chuckle accompanied with an eye-roll came from her, “but once he realises you care… he’ll come through. He’s really going through a tough spot now,” Emilia paused before meeting her eye, “but I’m sure your support means everything to him,”

Rose let out a breath, “I give him his space and he drifts further away. I’m afraid one day I’ll wake up and not even recognise the man next to me!”

A hollow chuckle, “it’s never easy I suppose,” Emilia gazed down at the floor, “Kit knows how to test one’s patience, apart from being an exasperating pain in the arse most days,”

Rose laughed, “tell me about it,” Emilia giggled and Rose relaxed into the chair, “you’re a good friend, Em. And as much as Kit’s been fantastic company,” Emilia’s smile did not widen at Rose’s attempt at a joke as Rose had expected, “I miss you. I miss the times we could go out together and just… giggle,” Emilia was quiet, her smile almost gone as her gaze stayed on her tea, “Em,” Rose called. She didn’t know what cause the slight but sudden change in Emilia’s demeanor but Rose was almost desperate to get it back.

Emilia’s eyes met hers and she looked sad. Rose was puzzled. She had thought Emilia would be happy when Rose said what she said. Emilia licked her lips and parted them, rather deliberately in Rose’s opinion, “Rose, I-“ a furrow formed between her brows and Emilia pursed her lips closed and let out a defeated breath.

Raising a brow, Rose regarded Emilia contemplatively. Rose couldn’t say what it is but how Emilia was now reminded her of Kit. When it became clear Emilia wasn’t going to say anything but rather seemed content warring internally about god knows what, Rose cleared her throat, “Em, can you-“ Rose took a breath, “can you tell me what happened between you two?” forcing the words through her constricted throat, Rose felt the burn of it. She knew how much Emilia’s story would hurt her, if Emilia was willing to tell it. But Rose wanted to know. It was a part of the life of the man she loved; a part which that man holds and guards close to his heart to this day, and Rose wanted to know. She wanted to know all about him. She was, at this point, almost desperate for anything that would give her better access to Kit, to understand him better, to know him better, to love him better. _And Emilia was and is a huge part of it._

“What do you mean?” Emilia’s voice was strangely tight and worry crossed over her face, “nothing happened, Rose… Kit was upset and I went looking for him…”

Rose shook her head, smiling sadly. _You sound just like Kit, without the frustration and anger… have I really become a paranoid bitch?_ “I know… but I didn’t mean just now,” Rose said weakly. Emilia looked even more confused, “I meant… the past. How you two got together… what happened in between, how it was like for Kit and you… why did you two break up…” Realisation dawned upon her and Emilia shifted, uncomfortable.

“Why?” Emilia asked. For a moment, Rose was afraid that even Emilia would not tell her, even Emilia guarded their time together as lovers close to her heart, “I’m just not sure it will be something you want to hear…”

Rose smiled, albeit sadly, “Why… for Kit. He is my boyfriend… for 4 years and sometimes I feel like I don’t know him at all. He wouldn’t talk to me about it apart from when he is just so angry… but this is…” _you are,_ “important to him, I know that much,” Rose choked out, “so please, Emilia. I want to know,” Emilia looked doubtful, “I have to know,” Rose corrected.

Emilia’s body sagged into the chair and she sighed the exact moment she relented, “alright…” Rose’s fingers tightened around the now cold cup as Emilia took a sip of her tea.

Then she started. Emilia told her how they met. It wasn’t at the read-through like Rose had originally thought. They had met at the bar in Belfast and spent almost the entire night talking to each other. _From that first moment, they were already inseparable._

At times, Emilia hesitated and Rose knew Emilia left out details that may be difficult for her to hear and Rose was grateful but could not curb the curiosity to know. Rose asked questions and Emilia patiently paused to answer them.

Emilia told Rose of their shared uncertainty of their careers, if thrones will be renewed, if they would even succeed in this industry. That was such a long time ago and they both have gone a long way since that time. Rose could hardly imagine it now. Then Emilia told her of how they supported each other when filming got tough, how they cried and laughed together. Then Emilia told her of Kit’s birthday, the first time she had gone to his house and met his brother. Rose had asked what Emilia got him for his birthday, inwardly guessing it already but Rose needed to confirm it: _the watch._

_“ROSE!”_

_She jumped and very nearly dropped her phone. Trying to calm herself enough to respond, Kit stomped out of the room. He was so angry his face and all of his neck were red. His hands were fists at his sides and his shoulders heaved as he panted heavily. His grey eyes that could be so gentle were onyx, hard cold stones, and glaring straight at her. Shock was too mild a word for how she was feeling, especially when she was expecting a completely different reaction from him._

_“Where have you taken it?” Kit asked, his voice softer now, his tone measured but Rose could hear the sheer fury he seemed to be trying to bury._

_Rose instantly knew what he was talking about. When he had returned from the gym, Rose has prepared a surprise for him. It was his birthday after all. From his reaction, she could only suppose he has seen the present._

_“Rose…” his fists were trembling at his sides as his eyes slipped shut for a few moments, “WHERE IS IT?”_

_Rose finally found her voice and asked, “what of it? Why are you raising your voice at me?”_

_“Where is it?” Kit asked again, lowering his volume._

_“It’s broken, Kit,” Rose replied, as if that answered his question. It was true, the watch has stopped for weeks now but Kit did not seem to notice. He wore it every day anyway and Rose decided then she would buy him a new one and surprise him rather than point it out and possibly spoil the surprise._

_She was confused and hurt; for he made no mention of the brand new one she had gifted him with by leaving it in place of where he always put his watch. She had spent an afternoon the day before picking it out with her sister. Rose liked it and thought it more sophisticated than the one he wore currently. It was also newer. For as long as she knew him, he has always worn the same watch. If he wasn’t wearing it because he had to wear a watch from a sponsor, Rose was sure it would be tucked away in his pocket or his bag that he carried._

_“Where. Is. It?” Kit glared, his voice laced with venom._

_Fear gripped Rose and she said, “why does it matter where it is?” she asked, “do you like the new watch?”_

_“WHERE HAVE YOU TAKEN IT?” He shouted and she jumped._

_“Where do you expect me to take a watch that no longer tells the time?” her own anger rose, “brought it out with the rubbish,” Rose snapped. A look of horror crossed Kit’s face before he sprinted out of the apartment, still in his gym clothes. She watched him go, hurt, confused and angry. The door slammed shut behind him and Rose numbly went into the room to find it in a complete mess. The wardrobe was open and things were strewn everywhere. The dresser was left ajar, the clothes inside rummaged and hanging out. She turned to the bed that she had made when she got up to realise he has left for the gym. The sheets of the bed were in a mess, tossed aside. But nothing hurt her more than the sight of her gift, sitting in a ribboned box; unopened, untouched as far as Rose was concern._

_Rose sat on the bed, trying to process what had happened. She was angry, no doubt, at how Kit has yelled at her but Rose could not help but feel some niggling guilt that she probably should have asked him first before she tossed it out. She simply did not think it was that important to him. She had never asked him about his watch and never thought to._

_Kit returned a while later and he paused at the door when he saw that she was on the bed. Rose supposed he thought she would have left. He lowered his eyes, not saying a word, as he walked past her to his dresser. Rose wrinkled her nose as she smelled the stench of rubbish on him. He pulled out clean clothes, presumably about to take a shower, “you shouldn’t shout at me,” Rose said in a clipped tone._

_Kit’s hand stilled in the dresser, “yes, I shouldn’t have,” he replied without sparing her a glance._

_His lack of apology should not surprise her but it did. She waited but all he did was pull out his pants and shorts from the lower compartment. When he walked past her to the loo, Rose realised he would not say more and was shutting himself off again. Realising that he might not talk to her, for a long time, she panicked, “I’m sorry for throwing it away without asking,”_

_Thankfully, he stopped. His eyes were still lowered, “I’m sorry for shouting,”_

_Her heart warmed and Rose stood from the bed. She approached him only to wrinkle her nose again, “did you find it?” Rose could not explain why she had hoped he would say no. And Rose already had it planned that she would whisper words of comfort and apology to him when he did, she would kiss him and make love to him and he would feel better then. When Kit nodded mutely, Rose’s eyes fell to his no longer vacant wrist. He was already wearing it, “good,” Rose forced herself to say, “do you want it fixed?”_

_Kit glanced to her before his gaze fell to the watch face. The hands were no longer moving. 3:20. The watch had been frozen on that time for a while. Kit nodded, “when I have the time,”_

_“I can help you send it to the watch shop. I know a good one-“ Rose suggested. Her family often patroned this one shop._

_“No,” Kit said, “I’ll bring it to the shop myself,” Kit traced a finger absently across the face of the watch, “thank you,” he added after a beat but it sounded hollow, meaningless._

_Rose reached for it. Kit tensed, his finger pausing over the watch face but he did not pull away and Rose brushed her finger over it, “where did you get this watch?” Rose was almost afraid of the answer._

_Kit only shook his head, “it’s a long time ago,” he looked away and Rose recognised it as him telling her that he didn’t want to talk about it. Rose reasoned internally then that Kit has always kept his things till they were old and broken. He was sentimental that way._ It’s nothing. _She told herself as she wished him a happy birthday and kissed him._

_Kit kissed her back quietly and to Rose, that would have to be enough for now._

“I always catch him gazing at it or looking for it whenever we passed by a watch shop. Once, I caught him talking to a salesperson about it but he told me he was looking to buy a watch for one of his mate… luckily, I snuck back to ask the salesperson which watch Kit was asking about,” Emilia smiled sadly, “It was something he always wanted but at that time, it was a luxury he cannot afford,”

“Neither could you,” Rose blurted, knowing that before Thrones came, Emilia herself worked multiple jobs and struggled to make ends meet financially.

Emilia blinked but she took no offense and laughed, “yes, neither could I actually… but Kit wanted it… and he has never really wanted much or asked for much. Not in our relationship anyway,”

Rose frowned. She could barely imagine Kit like that. The Kit she knew splurged on more shoes than he needed but Rose liked it that way. _An important man needs good, new, impressive shoes._ Her father said it to her brother once. So Rose took it upon herself to buy Kit new shirt and pants as well. But it didn’t escape her notice that Kit always pulled out the faded shirt with small holes in them or wore the old shoes more often than he should. She had told him off for how lazy and sloppy he was, until she gave up.

“Did you… meet his parents?” Rose felt a pang of pain when Emilia chuckled and nodded.

“Oh yeah, I did,” Emilia’s eyes glazed over, “they were wonderful,” a wistful smile etched onto her lips and Rose’s smile fade. She knew instantly that she didn’t have the same experience as Emilia.

_“Gods, what will they think of me?” Rose huffed._

_“It’ll be fine,” Kit rolled his eyes, “you were the one who was rushing to meet them…”  Kit muttered._

_“So it’s my fault?!” Rose turned to him, her eyes flashing._

_Kit’s eyes closed momentarily, “that’s not what I meant-“_

_“You could have bloody told me, couldn’t you?” Rose snapped, “’oh Rose, I’m sorry, this weekend is not a good time because it’s my grandfather’s death anniversary’,” he had told her that when she asked why he was all in black again on the way to his parents’._

_Kit’s face twisted in disgust and he turned away, “like you would’ve listened and not accuse me of not wanting you to meet my parents,”_

_Rose has been accusing him of that because it seemed true. Time and time again, Kit has found excuses not to meet her family even if her father has asked her to bring him home countless of times. And similarly, he found excuses for her not to meet his family – from this not being the right time, to waiting for his parents to be in a good mood, to her parents wanting to see her so she should go home instead of going home with him. Kit has dragged it out for almost a year before she was finally to meet the Haringtons._

_“Shut up,” Rose scowled and they made their way to the house. Kit knocked and did not even glance her way while they were waiting. Rose began to get slightly nervous as she brought to mind all the courtesies her mother taught her. The door opened and the look on Kit’s face softened as he bent to kiss his mother on her cheek. Kit insisted his mother was very warm and kind but only the word ‘stern’ came to Rose’s mind when she first saw her._

_“Mum, this is… um… Rose,” Kit cleared his throat and stepped to the side. He shoved his hands in his pocket and shifted on his feet. His eyes were fixed on the floor. Rose noticed the way his mother’s eyes studied her son’s demeanour before she turned to her._

_“Rose Leslie,” Rose greeted with the confidence she has been taught to carry herself with all her life, “nice to meet you,” she extended her hand and his mother smiled and shook her hand._

_“Nice to you meet you too dear,” the kind smile from his mother settled her nerves a little and soon, Rose found herself sitting at the sofa with Kit’s father after being briefly introduced. Kit had muttered that he will help his mother in the kitchen and left her alone there._

_Annoyed at him for leaving her alone rather than sit beside her, Rose held an awkward conversation with his father about Kit and her work. But the conversation took a turn for the better when they started talking of politics and her family. She was glad to find out she shared the same political views as Kit’s father. Their conversations stretched until Kit’s mother called them both in for dinner. Conversation at the dinner table was awkward when Rose continued the conversation about politics at the table only for Kit’s mother to rebuke them, rather vehemently. It was then Rose found out Kit’s parents held very different political views – one Conservative and one Labour._

_“After all these years I still wonder how that worked out,” Kit’s mother commented, glancing to Kit’s father, “oh but I suppose you two will be following in our footsteps,” she turned to Kit and Rose._

_Kit chuckled, “we don’t talk about it mum,”_

_“Oh really?” his mother asked, “usually, you couldn’t stop talking about it when the elections come around. Even if you shouldn’t,” his mother muttered that last part._

_Rose raised a brow, “really?” Kit was quiet as he dug into his potatoes. Kit’s mother nodded as she handed Kit some gravy. Kit muttered his thanks but did not say more. The dinner table descended into an uncomfortable sort of silence as Rose ran out of things to say and quietly ate. Kit’s mother asked her one or two questions about her family and Rose dutifully repeated what she had already told Kit’s father._

_“Well, I hope my little Kit has made a good impression with your parents,” Kit’s mother said with a kind smile._

_Rose forced a smile on her face._ He would have, _Rose glanced pointedly at Kit,_ if he would stop bloody smoking and rebuking my father when he complained about the taxes. _“They love him,”_

_“Our name helped, a lot,” Kit added dryly and Rose wanted to smack him upside the head. She knew he has always held some disdain for the class system and held little regard for his own name and hers. But Rose and her family was proud of it, of them, as she was raised to be._

_“Good,” there was something stiff about Kit’s mother’s reply and that successfully ended the dinner conversation._

_Later, when Rose decided to help to bring some more plates into the kitchen, she heard her name and stopped just outside of it. Kit and his mother were in the kitchen doing the dishes, “no, Kit. There’s no need,” Rose could hear his mother say in a hushed voice._

_“It’s fine, she’ll help-“_

_“No, she’s a guest, Kit. You will not ask her,” her voice turned stern._

_A beat of silence, “fine, then leave me to it. Go rest on the sofa with dad,” Kit said. Rose heard a soft sound of footsteps and she panicked for a moment but she supposed Kit’s mother was just sitting down._

_“You do the dishes, I’ll supervise you,”_

_Kit laughed, “alright,” for a moment, there was no sound but the dishes being washed. Rose was about to enter with more dishes and offer to help out when Kit’s mother spoke again._

_“Are you happy, Kit?”_

_A beat. “Yes,”_

_“Really?” a sigh, “you left to smoke, too many times Kit… too many. Do you hear me, Kit?”_

_“Yes…” Kit replied, so quietly Rose almost couldn’t hear._

_“It is getting worse, isn’t it?” there was no reply, “you don’t look happy,”_

_“Mum… I am. Don’t worry yourself,” Kit said._

_“Do you and Rose get on well?”_

_“Of course, she’s a good friend,”_

_“Not all good friends can be good partners – compatible partners,” Rose felt a lump form in her throat at the way his mother emphasised  the word ‘compatible’._ Did she think I am not compatible with her son? _“she’s a very nice girl. I can tell.”_

_“But?”_

_“You’re not communicating with her,”_

_Kit chuckled, “I can’t talk to her all the time. And it’s you and dad who should talk to her and get to know her,”_

_“I don’t mean talking Kit. All through dinner, yes you didn’t talk to her but you’ve looked at her less than I can count on one hand…” a pause, “the last time… I remember you were so busy you couldn’t even spare a glance down at what you were eating and yet, I didn’t have to lift a finger to hand you more food or what you want…”_

_“Mum, please,” Kit sounded strangely strangled._

_“Oh I’m sorry for bringing it up, Kit,” the sound of chair scrapping and Rose peered in to see Kit with his head against his mum’s neck as she hugged him, “I’m so sorry,”_

Rose remembered being offended by what Kit’s mother had judged and confused of what she mentioned of that had upset Kit. Now Rose knew; they were talking of Emilia. Rose swallowed the rest of her cold tea quickly as Emilia finished the story of the day she met Kit’s parents. Emilia’s visit has went over so well, she had even snuck out to drink with Kit and his brother Jack. Rose herself was only formally introduced to Jack during the premiere of Dr Faustus, last year.

Then Emilia proceeded to tell Rose about how and why they broke up. Rose felt her heart lurch at the look of agony that Emilia tried to hide as she related the story. But at the same time, Rose felt a sour ache at the realisation that Emilia still hurt for this relationship. _She couldn’t possibly still…_

“And that’s it…” Emilia whispered, her eyes wet as she stared down at the carpet, “then he met you,” Emilia’s eyes rose to meet her eye, “you were there for him when I wasn’t,” _he waited for you._ Rose wanted to tell her. _Every fucking night at that bar. Waiting for you to call him, or to show up in the lobby. And in his own way… he is probably still waiting…_ “and I couldn’t be more thankful for that,” the look of sheer gratefulness in Emilia’s eyes and her voice, thick with emotion, stopped her.

_She cares for him. And why wouldn’t she? She had left him not because she didn’t love him, not because she didn’t want this relationship to drag down her career, not because they constantly fought or fell in love with someone else…_

_She left him because she didn’t want him to spend his life waiting for her, because she didn’t want to hurt him, because she loved him too much to lose him. She didn’t know that she has dealt him the greatest hurt of all while she was trying to protect him._

_And yet… he loves her still._

Rose fought the tears that pricked her eyes as she looked down. _No matter what… no matter who he loves… He chose me… not her._ Rose bit her lip so hard it started to hurt.

“I just… want Kit to be happy,” Emilia said.

Rose blinked away moisture from her eyes to find Emilia already looking at her.

“I do too,” Rose replied quietly and Rose felt some mutual understanding was formed between them in that moment. Kit was a priority for them both and Rose couldn’t help but gain some much needed comfort from that despite the bitter taste in her mouth.

“Good…” Emilia smiled, so happily then, her eyes crinkled.

Gazing into her face, which was much too beautiful to be real, Rose realised even when Kit had tried to explain to her how Emilia knew him like no one else, how close they were, how precious their relationship was to him, Rose had not understood. And even after Emilia told her everything, Rose felt that some part of her would never understand. These are two people who have been through the biggest and probably hardest part of their lives together but it wasn’t merely the companionship. They have each experienced it and knew the feeling at a level no one else does; the thrill, the exhilaration, the pride and also the dread, the terror, the sheer pressure. And they were together, talking and supporting the other, through it all. They were each other’s rock; each other’s base. Ironically, gaining some understanding now, Rose realised how utterly clueless she is and felt that what she had learned was only a small fraction of how it was like for two of them.

Suddenly, all of their interaction Rose had witnessed and all of her own interaction with Kit was cast in a different light for Rose. _They have been through so little as partners and yet… their relationship, them together, only grew to be larger than either of them alone…larger than me…_

Overwhelmed and needing time to process it, Rose shot up from her seat hurriedly, “I-I should go… Kit would be wondering where I am if he woke,” _he probably wouldn’t remember I have arrived._ “And I should leave you to rest. T-t-thank you,”

Emilia blinked, surprised but she replied nonetheless, “oh, no worries, Rose. I start filming late tomorrow.” Emilia got up from the seat as Rose shuffled to the door.

Rose suddenly recalled why she even came here. Kit and Emilia were scheduled to film the sex scene between Jon and Dany in the studios tomorrow night and the filming was moving to Spain the day after next. So she had decided to come spent Kit’s last day in Belfast with him, “goodnight,” Rose muttered as she pulled open the door. She glanced to Emilia once before Rose hugged her.

“Goodnight,” Emilia said as they pulled away, “or good morning,” Rose chuckled.

Then something came to Rose’s mind. Something she has always puzzled over and never understood, “Em…”

“Yes?”

“Did you and Kit ever talked about having children?” Rose blurted.

Emilia blushed and blinked, evidently caught off guard.

“I mean… I mean does Kit mention wanting children?”

Emilia swallowed and scratched her head before she said, “you should ask him, Rose…” Emilia said weakly. _I did…_ Rose stared down, “Kit did mention… he-um- wanted children…” Emilia’s flush spread to her ear and her neck.

Rose nodded distractedly and turned away, “I’ll ask him,” she vaguely muttered.

_He chose me… but does he love me? If he doesn’t, why did he choose me?_

Rose’s head was pounding, her eyes swimming with tears. She was confused, and hurt. _If he chose me… why can’t he love me?_

She came to his door and slipped the key card into the slot distractedly. Walking into the room, she turned the corner to see Kit. He was sat up on the bed, his head in his hands. He looked up when she came to stand beside his bed. His eyes looked small and he blinked before he squinted, “Rose?” He was surprised, “w-what are you doing here?”

 _That is not how happiness looks like._ Rose noted, “I thought I would surprise you before you went to Spain,” _before the sex scene...before you are completely lost to me…_

“I-I am surprised… to say the least,” Kit stammered and massaged his eyes, decorated by dark eye-circles. If possible, he seemed even more tired.

Something in Rose snapped then, “so am I, when I flew a 9 hours flight to find you, passed out at the bar and I have to drag your sorry arse out of there,”

Kit froze, “you…?” A puzzled look crossed his face, “I thought it was…” his voice trailed off. _Emilia. You would remember her… she was all you could talk about and talk to while we dragged you back._ “nevermind…” Kit answered himself, “how did you know where I was?” Kit asked.

Rose stared at him and asked him instead, “do you love me?”

Kit blinked, “Rose…I-” Rose hated the way he hesitated, the way he stammered, the way he seemed completely lost when asked such a simple question, “of course I do,” he whispered eventually, looking down at the carpet.

“Say it,” Rose fought the tears stinging her eyes as she said sharply.

For a moment, his jaw opened and closed a couple of times but no words came out. He did not usually hesitate like this. Kit met her eye with a frown, “Rose… what are you- what’s wrong?” he massaged his temple, no doubt nursing a headache.

 _You love her. And I am beginning to doubt if you ever loved me…_ It was on the tip of her tongue but looking at him, Rose could not bear to say it. She could not stand the thought of losing him; the man she love even if he could not love her, “nothing,” she said instead, shrugging. Forcing a smile, Rose approached him. The furrows between his brows did not ease as she wedged herself between his legs to stand between them. She kissed at his furrows but they did not ease so she cupped his cheeks to tilt his face up to look at her.

“Rose?” his deep set eyes were gorgeous even with how tired he looked as he searched her face, trying to abate his confusion. Rose felt her knees weaken and her stomach flutter. Overcome with a sort of possessiveness for him, she leaned down to kiss him. She half-expected him to pull away but he did not and she indulged herself. His full lips were soft, warm, against hers. She delved deeper and he tasted of cigarette smoke and bitter alcohol. She could not help but pull away, wincing at the foul taste. He did not protest or pull her in and Rose realised then he had never really held her during their kiss.

“You’ve been smoking, again,” Rose couldn’t help but snap at him, “and drinking too fucking much, like you always do!”

Kit’s gaze fell from hers as he sagged, hunching lower. He was shutting off again and Rose wanted to hit him, just so he would shout at her, shake her; react to her. Her hands shook at her sides but Rose turned away from him with a scoff. “I’m sorry,” he said, so softly she barely heard it.

His soft voice and his sad disposition made her heart rent, “no,” Rose said, her voice wavering, “no, I-I am sorry,” she crossed her arms, trying to hold herself quite literally together, “I didn’t mean that…” she turned around to see him tentatively meeting her eye, “let’s start this again,” she swallowed, trying to calm her nerves. Kit was silent, his dark eyes watching her almost cautiously, “I’m just… tired. I miss you…” she whispered weakly.

Kit’s lips pulled into something like a smile and Rose’s heart lifted just slightly, “I miss you too,” her heart fluttered and she smiled.

“I-um…” Kit stood unsteadily, obviously still intoxicated. He stumbled to the side and she lunged forward and held him to her.

“What do you need?” Rose asked, letting him sit back down onto the bed.

Kit gazed up at her for a moment before he shook his head mutely. Brushing back his curly hair from his forehead, she pressed kisses to his face. She glimpsed his eyes slip shut and she smiled as she kissed his face thoroughly. When she came to his lips, she heard him sigh before he pressed his lips to her. He kissed her with a passion, rough enough to bruise like he usually do and her body melted against his firm, broad frame.

Rose didn’t usually like how rough he got but in this moment, she was desperate for him; for him to show her he loved her. Her hands roamed across his shoulders and chest. She moaned, feeling a tingle run down her spine at the way his muscles rippled as he yanked her into his lap. She stumbled but he practically carried her so she was sitting astride his hips. Her hands brushed across his solid abdomen before finding his jeans. She unbuttoned his jeans and pulled out his semi-hard length. He let out a shuddering breath as she stroked him before biting down on her lip. She groaned, feeling the sting of pain.

“I love you,” she whispered, tasting blood on her own lips.

“I love you,” he replied in an exhale. Her heart sang and her eyes fluttered open to look at him. His eyes were closed as he bestowed another bruising kiss upon her already sore lips.

She smiled. _This is how it should be, always._ She yanked his trousers and pants lower and he lifted his hips so they fell towards his ankles. He pulled away then and she looked to see him reaching for his wallet. Clumsily, he pulled out a condom.

“No,” she gripped his wrist firmly, her other hand pausing mid-stroke.

His eyes found hers blearily, “what?”

“I want to have your child,” Rose told him.

He frowned, his brows furrowing in deep puzzlement, “Rose-“

“No, Kit!” she grabbed the condom from between his fingers and threw it away, “I love you, and you love me. Is it so wrong for me to want a family with you?” she snapped, drawing back towards his knee to glare at him.

He sighed, “it’s not wrong… but not now, Rose… not so soon-“

“Then when?” she demanded, “you’re 30 this year, Kit. You may want to have children late, to follow in your parents’ footsteps but have you ever asked me what I want? When I want kids? How many kids I want? You have _never_ asked me,” she accused.

Kit withdrew as if she had physically hit him, “I-“ he paused and Rose felt her anger grow, “When do you want kids?” he asked, sounding more defeated than curious.

“Now,” she said bitterly.

“It’s not a good time-“ Kit protested.

“It’s never a good time. So when?” Rose scowled.

“Would you _listen_ to yourself for a moment?” Kit snapped, raising his voice a little and she jumped, “what if you get pregnant now? Who will take care of you? I’ll be all over the globe filming season 7 for the next few months!”

“I can come along,” tears welled up in her eyes at how upset he has gotten just discussing this but Kit was oblivious. He seemed to have a hard time even keeping his gaze directly on her, “to wherever you’re filming-“

“And then what? You’ll give birth in Spain? In Iceland?” he demanded, “I would be on location and you will be in a foreign hospital with no friends or family beside you. And the baby… when the baby arrives… what will we do when I have to go to another country for filming? Bring a newborn on a flight?”

“We will work it out,” Rose sniffed, “other couples manage it just fine,” Kit scoffed and turned away, silently fuming. He looked like he had half a mind to push her from his lap but Rose cupped his face and turned him back to her. She would not allow him to shut himself off again, not this time, “alright… not now…” she said, “so when? After this season?”

He tensed. His eyes darted to everywhere but her, “I will have to start work on the drama series, with Dan,” he muttered.

“You’ll be in England-“ Rose started to argue.

“Rose… we haven’t even gotten married…” he said stiffly but his voice was softer now and he was calmer.

“So we will,” she replied simply. He tensed and remained quiet, “right? Kit,” he averted her eyes even as she shifted to search for his gaze, “we have been together, for more than four years now,” she cupped his bearded cheeks gently and his tightly clenched jaw relaxed in her hands, “I love you. And you love me. We have been through so much together… We are right for each other,” she said softly, “I’m ready, Christopher Catesby… it is time,” she willed him to nod, to smile, to hold her and kiss her tenderly.

He did not.

Kit barely moved an inch to acknowledge her and she could only sit, waiting with a bated breath for his reply as she searched his handsome face for a clue of what he was thinking. It was for naught. Kit had been a mystery to her when she first met him and he remained a mystery to her even now. His dark brooding brown eyes avoided her gaze and his lips were turned down in a frown as he pondered. Regardless, Rose’s heart swelled with love for him now, like it did in the first year they spent together in Iceland. He held her, in the palm of his hand and Rose wondered if he held her with even a portion of the same regard with which she held him.

“Let me think about it,” he finally croaked out, shattering the silence.

 _What is there to think about? Your love for me? Or your love for another…_ His words broke her heart but Rose swallowed her hurt. Gazing at him, avoiding her eyes so obstinately, looking so conflicted and confused, Rose could only kiss him. She told him she loved him, wanting him to know that. She let him wrestle her back to lay in the middle of the cold bed so he could rid her of her clothes. She reached for a pillow but he pressed her wrist into the bed above her head, seemingly oblivious to what she wanted. She let him retrieve and put on another condom from the bedside table because that was only way he would love her.

She cried out when he thrusted into her with no preamble and fucked her with an abandon. With each rough thrust, she loudly moaned her love for him, desperate to remember this precious moment with him. She gazed up at his lovely face, wondering when he would truly let her in. _Have I not loved you enough? Have I not given enough of myself to you?_

He grabbed her leg from the bed and pulled it around his hips. She didn’t usually do that but obliged, trying and failing to keep her legs up around his hips as she was roughly jostled. She wrapped her arms around his neck, tugging him down to her so she could feel him against her but his arms stubbornly held him above her. “Look at me,” she hissed. His eyes met hers but only for a fleeting moment before he grimaced, his head dropping. His frame tensed above her and he groaned his release.

She could not feel it, even if she desperately wanted to. 

As he withdrew from her, much too soon after he came, he left stinging cold air in his wake. Rose’s arms tightened around him in silent protest at his departure but he reached up and yanked her arms away before he collapsed into the space beside her. She rolled over towards him, reaching for his softening cock.

“I got it,” he murmured, beating her to it. She watched him peel off the condom and toss it into the bin beside the bed. He seemed ready to settle down for sleep but Rose wanted more, she wanted to give him more. She reached for him and gently drew him into her hand. He was soft, “Rose,” he shifted, his face contorted with sheer fatigue and some confusion. She darted forward, eager to seek a taste of him. Just as her tongue skimmed him, he hissed in almost pain, “no-” his protest died on his tongue as she took him into her mouth and so she proceeded eagerly.

He groaned, shifting incessantly under her but she continued and he eventually grew hard in her mouth. She slipped her hand down between her own legs, wishing they were his fingers. A particularly loud groan left him and she gazed up at him. His face contorted and she felt him spurt strongly into the back of her throat. She moaned, wishing she had him, like that inside her. She only had that once, the first time they had sex. It was the first time he made love to her and since that night, she had belonged to him whether he knew it or not.

 _You are a proper lover…_ She smiled wanly, recalling an inside joke between them; something Ygritte had said to Jon Snow. She gazed at him as the last of his release seep from him and he sagged into the bed tiredly. _When have we become like this? You don’t smile around me anymore… you don’t joke or tease me...you barely talk to me._ She watched him turn onto his side, away from her, and fall asleep. In the back of her mind, Rose knew he was still intoxicated but she felt a sting all the same.

 

**Kit**

He opened his eyes. He expected his head to pound. _After all that drinking…how could it not?_ But he felt fine. In fact, he felt well-rested, more than he has felt for months now. Sleep cleared from his vision and Kit stared at the bedside table, puzzled. There was only his phone charging and Kit felt something was missing but could not figure it out before he detected the strong scent of lavender.

His heart wrenched at the scent and he closed his eyes, wishing it wasn’t only his imagination. Burying part of his face deeper into his pillow, he took a deep breath. There was no question then that the scent was present. Kit shifted, rolling over onto his back to realise that the scent clung onto the air of the room. It wasn’t long ago that he slept to another scent clinging onto the air of the room – cigarettes.

Kit glanced to the bedside table to see that there was indeed only his phone. His lighter and usual pack of cigarettes he usually kept at his bedside so he could smoke once he woke wasn’t there. Puzzled, he stretched sleep from his body as he glanced absently to his side.

He froze.

Tears welled up in his eyes as he gazed upon the brunette hair that pooled onto the pillow beside his. His eyes traced the shape of her back, the curve of the bare shoulder, waist and hips that he has long memorised, having dreamt of it countless times.

 _I am definitely dreaming…_ Kit thought and at that thought, the ache in his heart grew. The absence of the cigarettes by his bedside, the clear mind upon waking rather than the pounding headache and the sweet warmth that blanketed his body rather than a crippling fatigue suddenly all made sense to Kit.

As slowly as he can manage, Kit turned his body so he was turned to her. He smiled when he realised he was completely bare under the duvet; he had always preferred to sleep this way. He tried to satiate himself by gazing at her but his fingers twitched with longing so he reached for her. Unsure if he could touch her, if she wanted it, if he had the right, Kit allowed his fingers to brush the skin of her shoulder.

She was warm to the touch and Kit smiled as he brushed a small brown mole with the pad of his thumb.

She inhaled audibly, her shoulders rising and Kit froze, hurriedly withdrawing his hand. He felt incredibly guilty for waking her and taking liberties where he probably shouldn’t. “Kitten,” his heart skipped a beat and his stomach fluttered at the sound of her voice, thick from sleep, “Kitten,” she repeated, more insistently and Kit did not know what compelled him to do so but he scooted closer to her almost habitually. Unsure if she knew he was naked, bollocks and morning and all, Kit was careful to keep a respectable distance between them even if his body sang with a deep desire to be pressed to hers. She huffed a chuckle and before Kit knew it, she pushed herself back into him.

They sighed in unison, utterly contented as their bodies fitted together, his knee against the back of hers and her bottom against his groin. Leaning into her, he tucked his bearded chin over her shoulder. He turned his head and dropped a lingering kiss on her neck. She giggled and a chuckle left his lips before he even realised it. Eager to hear her giggle again, he nuzzled his beard against her shoulder.

She giggled loudly, shying away, “you’ll give me beard burn,” she whispered, “ _again_ ,”

Kit grinned, “lemme see,” he craned his neck and reached over her with his hand, hoping to turn her head and catch a glimpse of her sweet face under the pretense of examining her chin.

Laughing, she slapped his hand away, “we only promised to kiss each other every night, not a proper snog,”

 _We did?_ His chest swelled. _No wonder I slept so well_. If possible, his grin widened, “we should promise each other a good snog from tonight onwards,” 

“Why?” she snorted but Kit could hear the amusement in her voice.

“Because…” he nuzzled his cheek against her shoulder before pressing a kiss to the back of her neck, “we would sleep even better after,” she snorted, “or better yet…” he did not know where his confidence came from when he lay his hand upon her exquisitely rounded arse. He gently caressed her warm skin, pushing aside her shorts so he could squeeze a handful of her. She hummed, pushing back into him and he felt himself, already hard, twitch against her. For a moment, Kit wondered if she would pull away but she did not.

He bit his lips and gave in to his impulse to slap her firmly. The sound of his palm colliding with her bottom was clearly audible even under the duvet and she laughed, “hey!” her objection was marred by the fact that she could not stop giggling. Overcome with adoration for her, he buried his face into her hair, greedily taking in the sweet warm scent of her; stronger, courtesy of sleep. He smiled, unable to get enough of her, “stop,” she chuckled but Kit only took another audible breath of her.

He gave her bottom one last longing squeeze before his hand slipped across her bare thigh, savouring the feel of her curves and her warm smooth skin. He was about to slip his hand beyond the front of the band of her shorts when he felt the underside curve of a prominent bump.

Kit froze, not daring to believe it.

“What’s wrong?” She asked and Kit blinked, “did the little muffin kick? I didn’t feel it…”

She nudged him back and rolled onto her back. He stared as he laid his eyes upon her swollen abdomen, half bared as her camisole rode up. His breath hitched in his throat and his eyes welled with tears. Overwhelmed with emotions, Kit choked over words he wanted to say, things he wanted to ask but couldn’t manage to.

“Great,” she huffed and Kit tore his gaze from her abdomen to meet her eye only to have his breath stolen from him again. With her pale face, bright blue-gold eyes, her tangled mess of brown hair, Kit thought she looked glorious,  “now the little muffin’s awake,” she sighed but adoration was plain in her voice, “there’s the stretch your dad does as well first thing after he wakes,” she met his eyes meaningfully, the look in her eyes almost as tender as the one she had when she gazed down at her stomach.

Kit’s heart skipped a beat. _Little Muffin..._ He stared at the precious swell of her abdomen, wanting to feel it for himself. He mildly wondered if the child was named after the 56 muffins she has bullied him to purchase. At the thought, a laugh escaped him, “where?” he whispered, as if if he spoke any louder or harsher, he would frighten the child. _Our little muffin._

She smiled, picking up his hand from her thigh with both of hers. She brought his hand up and pressed a kiss to the back of his fingers before she adjusted her grip on his hand and pressed his hand to the spot just beside her navel, “here,” she whispered. He felt a firm, definitive nudge against his hand. His heart expanded in his chest so much so he thought he would burst.

“Is that…” Kit breathed, “a finger?”

She chuckled, “I think it’s a feet,”

He sucked in a breath, trying to stem his tears, “so little?” his voice thick with adoration for the little muffin.

“Yes,” she smiled, “any bigger and she’ll have to get out of there,” she complained.

 _She…_ Kit felt a wide grin split his face further so much it was starting to ache. His heart fluttered and Kit gazed down. He rubbed the pad of his thumb across the bump, marvelling at the movement he felt within. He sat up and hunched himself over the little bump. Gently, he placed his other hand just above her navel, cradling the bump. Leaning closer, he pressed his lips to Emilia’s alabaster skin beside her navel, where he felt the little feet. Feeling warm and fuzzy in his middle, he nuzzled his cheek on the same spot.

“Should I be jealous?” Emilia said but her lips curved into a smile.

With his cheek pressed to the swell of her belly, Kit gazed to her dazedly. He was positively exploding with love for her, and for their child, “Milly…” he whispered, “I love you,” he felt a nudge against his cheek and he chuckled; _jealous just like your mum_ , “yes, I love you too, our Little Muffin,” 

Emilia giggled, making the swell tremble along with her mirth, “we love you too, Kitten,”

**Rose**

She muffled her cries into the pillow as she turned from him.

_Milly._

It was the first thing she heard from him when she woke. At first, she had thought she was imagining things, or dreaming. But when she turned to look at him, she saw the sweetest smile on his face. Even while asleep, his face softened visibly as he whispered that name; over and over.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to you all who read, commented and/or left kudos on the previous chapter! Seriously provided me massive encouragement to finish up this difficult chapter! 
> 
> Massive chapter here that mainly covers Rose's POV as she gains some insight into Kit and Emilia's relationship and some snippet of Kit/Rose relationship. References to the First Verse Chapter 9 (the watch) and 15 (Emilia meeting the Haringtons) if you want to go back to read the moments Emilia mentioned here. 
> 
> Apologies to those readers who came back only for Kit/ Emilia but I will promise you, we are getting real close to it now! 
> 
> Foreshadowing for the next chapter mentioned in this chapter. But in case you missed it... Next chapter will probably be titled 'Boat'.


	7. Boat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think it is inevitable about halfway through the season that they are going to fall into bed together… when you feel that strongly about someone and you go through those events together… it’s like a runaway train you can’t stop it from happening. 
> 
> \- Kit Harington (Games revealed, 2017) 
> 
>  
> 
> They are all amazing actors, and they really genuinely like each other, which makes it great to work together. Even the intimate sex scenes were a breeze to shoot, such as the explosive one between Jon Snow (Kit Harington) and Daenerys Targaryen (Emilia Clarke), also from the Season 7 finale. It was set against the full revelation of his lineage and that the pair are in fact nephew and aunt. Kit and Emilia have natural chemistry. Filming their first sex scene together could have been awkward, but they are such good friends it all went smoothly. Of course there were some awkward giggles. But we sat down and choreographed and discussed the scene before to make sure everyone was comfortable, so it was quick and easy.
> 
> \- Jeremy Podeswa (The New Paper, 2018)
> 
> In the script, it described the fact that they were love-making, but it didn't go into great detail in terms of what was going on between them as characters in that moment. We built in a moment between Kit and Emilia where they stopped for a moment and looked into each other's eyes. The intention from my point of view, and their point of view too, is that they're driven by passion into this. They don't even fully understand what it's all about and what the consequences of it are. They really can't stop themselves. It's almost destiny that's bringing them together. There's a moment where they're like, "Are we actually going to continue doing this? Are we actually doing this?" And they can't stop themselves.
> 
> \- Jeremy Podeswa (The Hollywood Reporter, 2017) 
> 
> I like looking at her and going *gags*. Let's go again. 
> 
> \- Kit Harington (The Games Revealed season 7 episode 7, 2016)

_October 2016, Northern Ireland, Belfast._

**Kit**

Rose was upset.

Kit had gathered from how silent she was. She has been averting his eyes since the moment he woke and any time their gazes did meet, Kit dropped his gaze. He couldn’t bear the thoroughly broken look in her eyes. And what made it worse was that Kit knew that look was directed at _him_.

He had done something but Kit could not remember what happened even if he tried. He vaguely had flashes of seeing Rose last night but he could not recall anything beyond going into the Spaniard for a drink. He had ended up drinking so much Kit was surprised he was not hungover this very morning.

Nonetheless, even with his missing memory of the night before, Kit knew there were plenty of reasons for Rose to be upset and the guilt he felt swallowed him whole. He had woken and in the first instant, he had missed the scent of lavender that should cling to the air of the room he slept in. He missed the warm presence pressed to his side. He missed the singularly sweet scent he would detect if he ducked his head to bury his nose into a head of brunette hair.

_Emilia._

Kit remembered the sight of her straddling him. He remembered how incredibly soft her breasts felt in his hand, how smooth the skin of her thighs were as he caressed her. He remembered her warmth and wetness along his length. He remembered the sight of her cheeky smile. He remembered wishing he was blissfully buried in her. And he remembered part of his dream; the beautiful sight of her with her belly swollen with his child. _Our little Muffin…_

Ridiculously, Kit felt a dull ache of loss when he had woken to realise the very being that had stolen his heart in the short moment he dreamt her ( _or was it a him?_ ) did not even exist.

Kit blinked from his reverie as Rose emerged from the loo, fully dressed.

Kit gazed at the woman he had promised to love the moment he asked her to be his girlfriend; the woman he knew he should love. _How Emilia has gone from being the best of me to becoming the worse, all because I made a promise to another that I cannot keep..._

Kit watched Rose cross the room without sparing him a glance to shove her soiled clothes into her bag. _I do love you._ Kit forced himself to look at Rose as he thought it; he made himself really _see_ her.

Rose had lost weight, even if she had always been skinny to begin with. Searching his mind, Kit tried to recall what she told him she was doing in their time apart. _Audition._ Kit knew but he didn’t know for what. In the back of his mind, Kit knew that Rose was always pretty sensitive about the topic of work. When he asked about it, she thought he was trying to remind her of how much more successful he was compared to her and that he minded it. So Kit stopped asking her after a while.  

“Um,” Kit cleared his throat and Rose’s hand stilled momentarily from their task of packing her clothes into her bag, “how was your audition?”

Rose did not turn to him as she zipped her bag and straightened, “good,” her reply was stiff, quiet and unsuited for the actual content of her reply, “I got the role,” she did not even crack a smile, “I wanted to celebrate it with you actually. It’s why I flew out here,”

_So it wasn’t because of the love scene I am filming today._

“And I found you completely incapable of celebrating with me,” Rose’s cold response was sharp and Kit might have winced, if he hadn’t received it so frequently he had gotten quite used to it.

“I’m sorry,” Kit muttered. It was the only response he could think of.

“You’re lucky it wasn’t in the tabloids,” Rose said, turning away.

He raised his brows, “I thought you don’t read that stuff,”

“I don’t,” Rose breathed out through her nose, visibly and audibly annoyed with him, “but the least I could do while waiting for you to wake up is to check if my boyfriend’s career is over,” Kit swallowed the punch to the gut that forced all the air from his body and resolved to stay quiet, “just how I expected to spend the morning after I took a nine hours flight to get here,”  

Guilt weighed heavily on his shoulders and Kit mumbled, “we can go for breakfast-“ Rose scoffed, “or lunch, at your favourite café,” the quiet, beautiful one with overpriced coffee and food Kit thought were bland. But Rose always thought it healthy. Rose did not respond to his suggestion but she did not object and Kit knew that was all the affirmation he was going to get. So without another word, Kit threw aside the duvet and made his way to the loo to wash up.

After his shower, Kit blew his hair while staring mutely at the wall. Rose had settled into the chair by the balcony, her head propped up against her thumb. When he was ready, Kit turned to find her unmoving and her eyes closed.

He quietly approached her chair and knelt beside it. Even with her eyes closed, Rose looked immensely tired and he could still see the sad look in her eyes, before she had grown angry at him. Kit could only imagine how he would have reacted if Rose had done to him what he had done to her. Tentatively, unsure how she would react to him now, Kit placed a hand on her freckled shoulder. He inwardly winced at the feel of her thin shoulder under his hand. It was almost skin and bones, “Rose,”

She stirred and blinked at him. A soft look passed into her eyes momentarily before the sad look returned. His lips parted to issue yet another, albeit meaningless, apology but Rose said, “I’m sorry,” his shoulders sagged, in relief that they needn’t fight anymore but remorse seeped into him, “I didn’t mean what I said…” her eyes slipped shut momentarily and Kit glimpsed tears gather at the corner of her closed eyes.

Suddenly, Kit was reminded of the Rose he knew in Iceland when there were filming season two; his friend who was so immensely caring, kind and patient with him. Torn apart with shame for how he had been, distant and uncaring, Kit tugged her towards him by her shoulders.

She sniffed as she relented and leaned onto his shoulder. He rested a tentative hand on her back as she buried her face into his neck. He felt hot tears fall onto his skin and his heart wrenched. Kit rubbed her back, “it’s my fault… all of it,” he whispered, “I’m so sorry, Rose,” he dropped a kiss to the side of her head.

“It is,” guilt gnawed deeper into him but he felt a lingering kiss on his neck, softening the blow of her words and her hard, if teasing, tone. He relaxed momentarily before he felt another kiss, filled with meaning.

He tensed as another kiss followed, a demanding one this time.

“I thought you wanted breakfast,” Kit let out a halting chuckle.

She hummed her agreement, “I only said I want to spend my short trip here with you, meaningfully,” came her muffled reply. Kit knew what meaningful was in Rose’s mind. They had to be doing something and in no way was sleeping or lying down staring at the ceiling in complete silence even remotely meaningful to her; both of which Kit wanted to do now.

“Let’s go get breakfast then,” Kit replied. Rose did not reply as she found her way to his collarbone, “I’m hungry,” he said, his mouth unbearably dry all of a sudden as he wished she would relent to his suggestion.

Her lips paused and she withdrew. Kit took a breath as he studied her impassive face but it was currently impossible for Kit to puzzle out what she was thinking. Then she forced a smile onto her face, “alright, breakfast it is,” he smiled a small smile at her as he stood. She slipped her hand into his, “you have an awful lot of bedroom slippers,” Rose commented quietly as she watched him kick them off in exchange for his boots.

Kit froze. He had worn both of Emilia’s to his own room. But Kit knew how Rose would react if he told her. She wouldn’t believe him even if he were to say nothing happened between them. She would likely be hysterical. Instead, as Kit bent to zip up his boots, he said, “housekeeping must’ve forgotten to collect the old pairs,”

Rose did not reply and they proceeded from his room. As Kit approached the lift, Rose’s hand in his, he could not help but wonder if Emilia was already up and has had her breakfast. It was unlikely she would still be asleep for she was a morning person and could never sleep till late like he could. So Kit began thinking where she would be.

“Do you want to ask Emilia along?” Rose asked.

Kit blinked and turned to her to see Rose already looking at him. It has been a while since Rose has mentioned Emilia while they were not having an argument and Kit himself has not dared to ask Rose if she still went out with Emilia, for fear of starting an argument, “sure,” Kit blurted.

Rose’s face was curiously even as she nodded. They entered the lift and Kit hit the button to Emilia’s floor. Silence, but for lift music, fell between them. With Rose, silence was never a good thing and Kit could not shake the feeling he has upset her again. He felt like he was threading over glass on bare feet with her, “you’re filming a scene with her today, aren’t you?” Rose asked. Kit glanced over. _Jon and Dany’s love scene._ He nodded, “have you two discussed it?”

“No,” Kit replied. _There’s nothing much to discuss._ It was on the tip of Kit’s tongue but he bit his tongue when he realised how it would sound to Rose, “we would do so with Jeremy later on set,”

Rose nodded absently but didn’t say more. They came to Emilia’s floor and came to her door. Kit pulled his hand from Rose’s and knocked on the door he has faced countless times since they began filming and felt the familiar flutter of anticipation in his chest. Tension eased from him as he waited patiently for the door to open. He lowered his head and tilted his ear to the door, listening for if she was in. He was sure he would hear it if she were. _She could never stay quiet for long._ Kit mused.

“Maybe she has already left-“ Kit started to say. _She would have been awake for a while._ Then he heard a thud. Kit frowned and knocked again, “Clarke,” he called.

He heard a click and the door was pulled open. The sight of her face, exactly as she was in his dream, knocked the breath from his lungs. Kit’s eyes unwittingly glanced lower and he took in the sight of her flat abdomen with a pang of longing in his chest.

“Good morning,” Emilia’s thick, nasal, voice yanked Kit back to the present and his gaze searched her critically. She was wearing a thick oversized jumper and shorts. He tried to avert his eyes but caught a lingering glimpse of her bare legs nonetheless. She was obviously still in bed when he knocked, which puzzled and worried Kit.

He searched her face then and got even more worried. Her face was pale, there were dark eye circles under her half-closed eyes and her nose was red. She sniffed noisily and Kit took a step towards her, “are you alright?” he raised a brow.

“Fine,” she said. Her voice sounded so different that the word did not evoke even a shred of assurance in Kit. Her eyes darted to him and she added, “just a cold,” Kit pinched his lips together in disapproval for her sad attempt to lie to him. _And she knows I don’t approve._ He watch her shift uncomfortably like a child getting caught lying and her gaze glanced down, “I’ll be fine after sleeping it off-“

The back of his hand found her forehead and to his horror, she was scalding. Furrowing his brows deeply, he took another step closer to her and placed both hands on the side of her neck, his fingertips feeling the back of her ear, “you’re running a fever,” he muttered, his mind running a mile a minute for what to do, “let’s go to the clinic-“

Emilia groaned, “no. I just want to sleep-“

“Clarke, don’t make me carry you there,” he growled, his thumb brushing across her cheek to soothe his threat but he should have known she would not be intimidated in the least. _Little but feisty, as always._

She frowned, “no, thank you,” she turned from him, “I really just want to sleep,” she was already on the way back to bed. Kit pushed the door open and followed her. Instantly, he was rewarded with the strong scent of lavender. Idly, he was glad she had remembered to spray her pillows without him to remind her.

Kit watched worriedly as she crawled into bed, trying not to stare at the way her shorts hugged the curve of her arse. She pulled the duvet over her and snuggled down against a pillow. She made the duvet look like the heaviest thing ever and Kit knelt by her bed, in front of her face, “Clarke…” he unwittingly softened his tone and she opened her eyes a crack.

“I’m so glad you’re not hungover and looking so very pretty this morning,” she said, her voice soft, or rather, weak.

He chuckled despite the mounting worry at the sound of her wispy voice, “it’s not morning anymore,”

Her eyes widened, “fuck,” she pushed herself off the bed and craned her neck for a glimpse of the digital clock on the bedside table.

Kit placed a gentle hand on her cheek, coaxing her back into bed. His heart lurched as he felt how hot her skin felt, “it’s not time for work yet,” he assured and she visibly relaxed and sank heavily into the bed, “anyway, I’ll help you call in sick-“

“No,” she croaked, “it’s just one scene, I can manage and we can’t cancel, production is moving to Spain-“ she stopped abruptly and her nose twitched as her eyes slipped shut. A heavy sneeze left her, shaking her small frame tremendously even under the duvet.

“Fucking hell,” Kit couldn’t contain an amused chuckle, “you should be quarantined,”

“Piss off,” if possible, her voice got even more nasal. She reached for a tissue but Kit pressed two straight under her dripping nose before she could entirely lift her arm off the bed, “thanks,” she managed behind the tissue. She blew her nose and Kit cringed at the sound of the congestion.

Brushing back a few strands of wayward hair from her face, Kit felt a sting in his chest at the feel of the heat radiating off her, her pale face and the dark circles under her eyes. Kit muttered, “stubborn,” he sighed, knowing she was hell-bent on staying in bed even without having to tell her to see a doctor again, “a cup of hot tea. And… a muffin,” Kit ignored the pang of longing that struck him at the word, “how does that sound?”

“Like heaven,” she sighed before blowing her nose soundly. She dismissively held out the soiled tissue and Kit wrinkled his nose even while he reached to pull the dustbin closer to her. She dropped it in and tucked herself back under the duvet.

Kit scoffed to conceal his chuckle but he could not stop the smile that spread across his face as he watched her snuggle, “I’d be right back,” he told her softly. Brushing the back of his fingers worriedly against her hot forehead, Kit stood from the bed. Turning around, he froze. Rose stood staring at him. He had forgotten she was there.   

Rose held his shifty gaze for a moment, unsmiling before she brushed past him to Emilia. Kit watched Rose sit on the edge of the bed by Emilia.

“Rose…” Emilia sniffed, forcing a smile.

Kit could not see if Rose smiled back but she pressed her hand to Emilia’s forehead. Rose audibly exhaled, “you’re burning…”

“I’ll be fine,” Emilia replied nasally, her eyes growing watery, “it’s probably just a cold. It’ll pass,” Emilia chuckled then, an attempt to lighten the atmosphere in the room, “probably should have dragged myself to a warm bath after last night,”

Rose chuckled, nodding. Kit wondered then what happened last night and why Emilia needed a warm bath but he bit his tongue, “we’ll go get you that hot tea then,” Rose stood, “rest well,” her voice was warm, soft.

Emilia smiled, her eyelids already heavy, “thank you,”

“And me?” Kit blurted.

His heart leaped when Emilia looked over at him, her tired gaze twinkling with amusement. Her lips pursed against a smile. Even ill, Kit could not stem the thought of how pretty she looked, “fuck off and get me my tea,” she sighed before rolling over so her back was to them. But Kit swore he glimpsed the edge of her lips turn up in a smile just before she hid her face from him.

“I’ll bring your room card along so you don’t have to get off your lazy arse later,” Kit informed and went to her vanity, where she usually kept her card. Sure enough, he shifted around her things and found it. Emilia made a mild sleepy noise of acknowledgement as they left the room.

Their walk to the café was quiet as Kit pondered how they should have their breakfast now. He wanted to return for Emilia to have that hot tea and muffin as soon as possible. He was sure she would be starving by now. But he didn’t know how Rose would react to that. When they exited the hotel, Rose took the path to her favourite café so Kit followed her lead.

“I’ll be returning to New York,” Rose said, taking his hand and lacing their fingers together. Relieved she wasn’t upset at him enough to not speak to him, Kit squeezed her hand.

“When?” he asked, not looking at her.

“Today. In a few hours,” Kit nodded and silence fell between them, “I will be finalising the last few details of my contract before signing it,”

Kit’s fingers twitched for his cigarette, “what show…” Kit’s voice trailed off when he realised he wasn’t even sure if it is a movie or a tv show.

“The Good Fight,” Rose replied, “the sequel to the Good Wife,”

Kit vaguely remembered Rose watching it on their telly and making him watch it with her. He had fallen asleep on the sofa and Rose had gotten angry at him for that. He told her he would catch up in his own time but it slipped his mind afterwards, “that’s… promising,” he commented. He gently extracted his fingers from hers, reaching for his pack of cigarettes in his pocket.

“Must it be right now?” she muttered. 

His eyes slipped shut. Funnily enough, her stopping him had him craving for a smoke even more than he did but Kit nodded stiffly and kept his pack of cigarettes and jammed his hands into his jacket pocket instead. He began chewing on his inner lip, trying and failing to push the thought of a smoke off his mind.

“You’ll come visit me,” Rose said softly. From the corner of his eye, he could see her craning her neck to peer up at him, “won’t you?”

Kit turned to her. When he saw her, he smiled at her and replied softly, the only reply he could manage when she was looking so hopefully up at him, “of course,”

Rose’s smile widened, “I’m thinking of getting an apartment in New York since I will be filming there for a while…you could stay there if you come visit… at least for the first season and if we are renewed for the second season and I am still in it…”

“You’ll be great,” Kit told her hurriedly, fixing his gaze on her as he said it.

Rose searched his eyes before she smiled wide, her eyes crinkling at the edges as she did so. Her cheeks bunched up but not enough to hide her eyes the way it sometimes did. Kit loved it when that happened, “thank you,” Rose looped her arm through his and gripped him firmly. She pulled him to a stop and craned her neck up to him.

Glancing around to see people all around them, Kit tilted his head away instinctively. Rose paused and the soft look in her eyes flickered with hurt. Letting out a subtle breath, Kit leaned into her and pressed his lips to hers. He felt her lips curve into a smile against his before they parted to take his lips between hers. Rose kissed him gently, her hand on his ribs pulling him closer. He kissed her back, tasting the sharp mint toothpaste on her breath. Eventually, he pulled away, “people are watching,” he muttered an explanation before Rose asked.

She paused, chuckled before nodding in agreement, “yes they are,” if possible, her smile widened.

Kit felt his neck flush as he hurriedly ducked his head and walked quickly to the café. Beside him, Rose laughed and he turned to witness it. She rarely laughed around him anymore and Kit realised he missed it. Nonetheless, he ducked his head and made his way to the cafe, with her close behind.

They came to the café and Rose found them a seat along the sidewalk, commenting that it is a nice enough weather for them to sit outside. He swallowed his request to take away their breakfast to Emilia’s hotel room and mutely went to order their meal.

Rose seemed in a good mood thereafter, not even pulling a face when he went for a smoke after he finished his meal. As they stood from their seats, Rose asked, “aren’t you going to buy the hot tea for Emilia?”

“Yeah, from the other café,” Kit replied and they made their way hand-in-hand to his favourite café that Rose did not think much of when he had brought her there. She did not particularly find the latte exceptional and didn’t care much for the fry-up either, “do you want to wait out here?” Kit asked, knowing Rose hated the greasy smell that got on her hair and clothes after.

“No,” Rose replied with a small smile and they entered the café. Kit glanced sideways at her as the heavy smell of grease hit them. A mild look of annoyance passed over her face but Rose did not shake aside his hand and leave like she did before. She accompanied him as Kit approached the counter.

Josie turned to them. She smiled but the smile faltered when she glanced to Rose and to their interlinked hands. She looked confused momentarily but eventually smiled to them and asked, “Hi there, the usual?”

“Hi Josie,” Kit smiled, “no, just the one latte for me-“ he paused and turned to Rose who shook her head, “just one latte and…what would be good for a cold?” Kit searched the menu cluelessly.

“Hot ginger tea would be good,” Josie suggested.

“Alright then, one hot ginger tea and… blueberry muffin,” Kit told her.

“I’m afraid we don’t have 56 of those today,” Josie teased.

Kit laughed, his chest warming at the memory of her smile and that of the crew when everyone received the muffins. Emilia herself has had three of those muffins, liking them so much, “just the one please, Josie,” he sighed but he could not get rid of the smile on his lips.

“Coming right up.”

“Oh and to-go please,” Kit called after Josie’s retreating back. She smiled and acknowledged it. Kit turned to Rose.

She squeezed his hand, “what 56 muffins?” she asked, her lips pulling into a wide smile as she saw the one on his face.

“Nothing,” Kit shook his head.

 

**Emilia**

She nibbled at the blueberry muffin, her cold hand warmed by the hot ginger tea she clutched.

Her stomach churned and her head throbbed but the mouth-watering scent of the blueberry muffin, still hot, kept her nibbling at it. The sip of ginger tea she took also warmed her middle and settled her stomach enough for her to even consider the muffin.

Kit and Rose had dropped off the tea and the muffin. Rose was going to head for the airport and Kit was going to send her there before heading back for filming. Emilia hugged her friend goodbye and wished her luck for the filming of her upcoming show. Rose wished her the best and that she recovers quickly. Rose kissed her on both cheeks and Emilia glanced over at Kit who averted his eyes from them both.

Her heart fluttered at the sight of him; his curls pulled back into a bun, his deep set chocolate brown eyes, his full beard, his then turned-down lips. When Rose’s arms squeezed her in a hug, her heart sank, heavy with guilt and Emilia tore her gaze from him, the man she didn’t have the right to look at like that, to think of like that. Without a glance at her, Kit left with a hand resting on the small of Rose’s back.

 _Have you no shame, Clarke._ Emilia stared at the carpet blankly. _She’s your best friend. And him… he made his choice when you told him you love him and he stays by her side, still._ The image of their interlinked hands when they appeared by her bedside burned into the back of her eyelids no matter how much she willed it away.

Rose had looked at her with such concern when she sternly told Emilia to eat as Kit stood quietly beside his girlfriend. _How could you do that to your friend? How could you even say such things to him?_ Tears welled up in her eyes and her throat narrowed. Emilia swallowed a small nibble of muffin, feeling nausea rise from her stomach. _You’re the worst person who have ever lived…_

Looking around her empty hotel room, a sudden bone-chilling loneliness gripped her and Emilia placed the cup of hot ginger tea on the bedside table before she scrambled amongst the sheets for her handphone. The moment she found it, Emilia immediately dialled her mother.

“Hello,”

Emilia could have cried at the mere sound of her mother’s voice.

“Emilia?”

“Mum,” Emilia bit back a sob.

“Oh dear, what has happened now?” worry laced her voice and Emilia instantly regretted sounding as such.

“Nothing,” Emilia tried to sniff softly, “I just miss you,”

A chuckle. “You sound like you’ve caught a cold,” there was no accusation in her mother’s voice but thick concern, “and I miss you too darling,”

“Yeah, caught a slight cold,” she nibbled at her muffin, already feeling better just hearing her mother’s voice.

“Are you taking care of yourself? Are you eating?”

“A blueberry muffin,” Emilia lifted it, a small smile on her face as if her mother could see her, “and hot ginger tea,”

She heard her mother’s hum of approval, “thank Kit for me,”

Her heart leap at his name, “hey! What makes you say that?” Emilia feigned a tone of disgruntlement.

“You’re good at a great deal of things Emilia, but taking of yourself is not one of them,” her mother said in the matter-of-fact tone she frequently used, “why do you think I worried so much when you first flew off to work?” Emilia snorted and hid her smile behind another bite of the muffin, “so? Is Kit there?”

“N-“, Emilia heard the door beep and Kit emerged, “um,”

“Put me on speaker,” her mother urged.

“Mum,” Emilia rolled her eyes.

Kit raised his brow at her, curious and Emilia supposed she couldn’t blame him. She had stared at him the moment he came in and still was, “put Kit on the line, I want to thank him personally,” Emilia opened her mouth to object, “I don’t want to hear another word out of your mouth apart from telling me Kit is listening,”

Emilia chuckled. Her mother was joking for she have never spoken to Emilia like that but Emilia decided to listen to her mother, if only to witness the look on Kit’s face when she told him. Silently, Emilia pulled the phone from her ear and turned it to speaker mode, “my mum wants to speak to you,”

Kit’s jaw dropped, his mouth agape.

Emilia sniggered, trying to quell her laughter by taking a bite of her muffin. She knew Kit was mildly terrified of her mother. Jenny Clarke held herself with such grace, easy confidence and spoke with such assertiveness, she often intimidated men larger than herself. _Kitten didn’t stand a chance._ Emilia only wished she exuded a quarter of the confidence her mother did, “Kit,” Jenny Clarke said, her voice ringing with command.  

Kit blinked, snapping out of his surprise to speak, albeit shakily, “yes Ma’am,”

Emilia laughed. Suddenly, all her discomfort was forgotten and all she felt was the growing mirth in her belly. Kit shot her a resentful look even if the edges of his lips twitched into a smile, “how are you dear?” her mother’s voice softened and Kit swallowed as he made his way to the bed and perched on the foot of it.

“G-good,” Kit replied, “thank you. And you?”

“Fine, thank you,” Kit raised both brows at her and Emilia shrugged, “Kit, firstly, I would like to thank you for getting some food into Emilia’s belly and hot ginger tea for her cold,” she stopped expectantly and Kit scrambled for an answer.

“N-no problem at all, Ma’am,”

“We’ve been over this, please call me Jenny, Kit,” the amusement was evident in her mother’s voice and Emilia sniggered loudly, “secondly, I would appreciate if you would make sure she gets as much sleep as possible tonight, so please don’t keep her up-” Kit’s face turned tomato red and Emilia choked on her muffin. Kit glared at her though his blush and Emilia shook her head frantically. _I haven’t even told my mum if I would be filming –_ “Do either of you have work today?”

Emilia gave him a meaningful look and Kit rolled his eyes, “yes, we are just heading there now,” Kit replied, his tone even and not giving even a hint of the panic going on on their end.

“Oh, is it night shoots?”

“No, we would probably be done by dinner time,” Kit’s gaze was fixed on her and he added, “if Emilia can hold in her giggles,”

“Oh, both of you will be filming together?” her mother asked curiously.

Emilia blushed redder than Kit, knowing the line of questioning would lead to her mother asking what they were filming, “no spoilers mum!”

A huff of exhalation was heard, “you know I do not follow the show beyond watching you, Emilia,” her mother said, “no offense, Kit,”

Kit chuckled, “none taken. My own mum doesn’t care for it much as well,” he said.

“Oh is it?”

“Yeah,” Kit rubbed the back of his reddening neck, “she doesn’t like the gore or violence,” _and watching her son having sex._ Emilia snickered.

“That makes two of us,” Jenny quipped, “oh and Kit, please make sure she washes her hair-“

“Mum!” Emilia cut in, “I know how to take care of myself and Kit is not in any way in charge of me,” she huffed.

“Emilia, I am putting Kit in charge of your well-being in my absence,” her mother replied simply and Emilia’s heart fluttered at the thought of her mother entrusting her to Kit, “he seems to be doing a much better job than I have seen you do with yourself the past seasons,” her mother was still immensely grateful to Kit for sending Emilia in to the hospital for her headache she experienced, even if it turned out to be nothing more than a headache. And now, it seemed her mother was set that Kit was absolutely right for the role.

“Mum,” Emilia sighed, “Kit has other matters…” _like a girlfriend… for example._

“No problem, Jenny,” Kit cut in, a small smile on his lips, “I’ll take good care of her. If she would listen to me,”

“I know how stubborn she can be…” Jenny sighed, “Emilia,” her tone turned stern, “you are to listen to whatever Kit says, do you hear me?”

Emilia pouted. It was the tone her mother adopted when she was little and being entrusted to someone else for a while and instantly, Emilia felt a little girl again.

“Emilia,” a warning.

“Ok,” Emilia muttered indignantly.

“Good girl,” Kit mouthed and Emilia scowled, just stopping herself short of throwing the muffin at his head. She would only be wasting a good muffin.

“Good,” Jenny said and Kit muffled his laugh behind his hand, “alright work hard but take care of your health. Both of you. All the best for filming,”

“Thanks Jenny,”

“Thanks mum,” Emilia smiled.

“I love you darling,”

“Love you too mum,” Emilia gazed down at the photo of her mother she had set as her profile.

“Take care Kit,” she said.

“I will, Jenny. And I will take care of Emilia too,” Kit smirked at her, his gaze twinkling meaningfully. Emilia felt her cheeks warm but she rolled her eyes at him, “don’t worry,”

“Mothers always worry,” she said, “but thank you, Kit,”

“Bye mum,” Emilia said softly.

“Bye, darling,”

The line went dead and Emilia scowled at Kit’s handsome smirking face, “shut up!” she tossed a pillow at him.

Kit scoffed, raising his hands in surrender as he shoved aside the pillow, “I haven’t uttered a word!” he objected.

Emilia mocked a glare at him, hiding her smile behind the muffin.

“I don’t like how long you’re taking to finish that muffin, Ms Clarke,” Kit feigned a stern tone, raising a brow.

Emilia laughed despite trying to maintain her glare at him, “fuck off,”

“Language,” Kit ducked as the other pillow soared through the air.

* * *

Emilia felt ridiculously nervous.

She hadn’t felt this nervous in a while and she didn’t even have a single line in this scene; in fact this scene only had a grand total of two lines in the script. She also didn’t have a single piece of clothing in this scene. Her head was lightly aching despite the painkiller she took to reduce the headache and bring down her fever. Her nose was extremely congested as well and runny.

And she was late.

Her wig of platinum braids weighed heavy but assuredly on her head. She wore a thick grey bathrobe that would have kept her adequately warm had she not been so nervous her hands and feet were freezing. Taking a breath, she stepped onto the dimly lit set. She scanned the set that was supposed to be Dany’s cabin on the boat. Everything was extremely realistic as was to be expected on a show with as a large production value as Thrones.

Her throat narrowed as she stared at the large bed, covered with grey sheets, in the centre of the room. She turned to see Kit already there. He was wearing a black bathrobe. His hair was pulled back into a small bun at the back of his head, “I see you bothered to do up your hair,” Emilia quipped as she approached him.

Kit smiled, one that crinkled the edges of his eyes beautifully and Emilia’s breath hitched, “don’t want my hair getting in your eyes,” _like they used to…_ Memories of a time when his curls would tickle her face as he lay over her came to her. She remembered trying to tuck them behind his ear only for them to flop back into her face, to both their amusement, “Jon will be on top after all,” Kit chortled, too proud for Emilia’s liking.

Emilia rolled her eyes, “that is fucking ridiculous. There is no way it happened unless Dany allowed it,” she folded her arms, “and I guess she will,”

Kit chuckled. Neither of them brought their script with them as they were only filming two lines today: Dany and Jon making love. Jon is on top. From experience, Emilia knew this would probably take a couple of hours, if not go on till late into the night.

Jeremy, the director, joined them after a while and they began their discussion of the scene and boundaries.

“Um…” Emilia spoke haltingly, her face warming even before she really started speaking, “I haven’t got a guard on,” the director had discussed with the costume department that Emilia would need a guard for the requirements of the scene rather than a mere nude thong or a fabric cover-up that would provide little protection against what they had in mind, “I did put it on but it hurt quite a bit, so I didn’t go with that,” for a moment she was too embarrassed to meet Jeremy or Kit’s eye but eventually, she chanced a glance to Kit.

His cheeks were pink under his beard but he cleared his throat and said gently, “if it hurts you, you shouldn’t have it on,” he continued, glancing to Jeremy, “I’ve got the sock on, so it should be fine, I reckon?” he scratched his beard, “I got it all packed in properly, nice and snug,” their eyes met and Emilia sniggered. Kit’s awkward demeanour cracked the moment she cracked and he laughed.

“Alright, we’ll choreograph the specifics later before we begin filming,” Jeremy said and both of them nodded in agreement, “but we should probably decide how it will go now,”

“As I was telling Kit, there was no way Dany would not have a go at being on top,” Emilia smirked as Kit shook his head at her, a smile on his lips, “so maybe initially, she would be but allowed Jon to get on top later on. Right, Kit?” she turned to him, smacking him on his arm with the back of her hand.

“Right,” Kit nodded, looking painfully patronising and she quelled her laughter to mock a scowl at him. He chuckled, “it makes sense,” he added and that only made him even more patronising than he was.

She made a face, “I mean Dany is a pretty fierce lover in the books,” Emilia pointed out, “with Daario. So she would naturally seek to be in control at the beginning. And I think then, there would be something about Jon that drives her to allow him to have the upper hand in this; she would want to be open to him, to be vulnerable for him. It would be a conscious decision on her part…”

Kit nodded, “and Jon’s as well. He has always been uptight about the possibility of getting girls pregnant and fathering bastards…”

“Although Dany did inform him she is infertile in the scenes before this,” Emilia reminded. They were scenes they haven’t filmed.

“Yes but Jon didn’t believe it. So in his mind, she wasn’t infertile,” Kit said, his tone softening, “and yet, he sought her out and he falls into bed with her,” Kit met her eye, “a part of him, conscious or not, wants this. With her. Even if he doesn’t say it,” _a family…_

A huge lump lodged itself in her throat at the way Kit had said it; his voice so tender. The look in his eyes so fixated on her, Emilia had a hard time distinguishing if the topic of conversation was Dany, or otherwise, “and she wants this too. This is not like any of the men she has fallen into bed with before him. This is different because there is no one else who knows her like he does, who has such similar experiences with her, who is so similar to her…she hasn’t nor will she ever meet someone like him,”

In the dim light she could have sworn Kit’s eyes welled up with tears, “he loves her,”  

Her breath hitched as he uttered the very words she longed to hear. She smiled, her chest swelling at his words and the way his voice sounded; so thick with emotion, “and she loves him,” she completed the voiceover of Bran in the script and yet pulling the very same words, raw, from her heart.

Kit forced a smile to mirror hers but the look in his eyes now were curiously pained. Then Jeremy spoke, startling them both enough for them to hastily tear their gaze from the other, “exactly. That sounds beautiful. If we could have the exact moment in the scene, the intensity of that eye contact with that thought in mind. It should be clear that they are conscious of what they are doing, entertaining the thought that they probably shouldn’t and yet, are powerless to stop it from happening,”

Emilia blinked to find her own eyes were watery. _Are we truly powerless stop it? Or is it selfishness?_

Jeremy turned to the bed, gesturing, “we would keep it simple so you two can do what you both are so great at and the audience can focus on the emotion in the scene. One far-shot from here, and two more close up on Dany and Jon’s face as they look into each other’s eyes,”

Jeremy turned back to them expectantly and Emilia cleared her throat subtly before she nodded, “sounds great,” she sniffed and her lovely make-up girls came up with tissues at the ready, “sorry,” she mumbled to them as they fixed a little of the make-up as she wiped at her nose and watery eyes.

She glanced over them to see Kit talking to Jeremy in a hushed voice. He glanced to her to see her already looking. Kit smiled and her lips automatically curved into a smile, though her congested airways that had her head feeling heavy and light at the same time. Jeremy nodded and Kit patted his shoulder heavily before making his way over to her.

Emilia watched the hair and make-up girls disperse from around her as Kit approached. It was now strange for Emilia to see Kit looking so much like Jon, with his hair tied back and the scars on his face, and yet not wearing his costume but a bathrobe, “what’s going on?” Emilia asked with a smile, glancing to Jeremy.

Kit shook his head but replied, “do you remember when we spoke of Jon and Dany having a love scene?” Emilia hesitated and Kit added with a small chuckle, “it’s a long time ago you probably wouldn’t-“

“You promised we could choreograph the sex scene properly so I don’t have to bare it for the camera,” Emilia said. She remembered it like it happened yesterday.

Kit’s smile widened and he nodded, “I did, even if I have to contribute to the arse count on the show,” Emilia’s heart warmed as he quoted what she asked him years ago. They have spoken of this when they were heading back to London after finishing up the first season.

“You were jealous of the other boys who got to see me naked,” Emilia teased and Kit’s cheek turned slightly pink.

“No I wasn’t,” Kit protested, “I just didn’t want them picturing you…in that way…” he practically whimpered out.

Emilia chuckled, “so what did my champion manage to bring to pass with that discussion with Jeremy?”

“What I promised,” Kit straightened, looking much too proud of himself.

“What?” Emilia scoffed.

“You wouldn’t have to show even a crack,” Kit said before he burst into chortles, “literally. Not even your crack. I’ll be showing mine,”

Emilia giggled, “that would be a treat for the ladies,”

“Jealous?” Kit teased.

She rolled her eyes, “why would I be when I can grab said arse whenever during the scene?”

Kit laughed but did a double take when she didn’t laugh with him, “seriously?” he asked, looking uncertain.

“Maybe,” Emilia said airily as she proceeded to the bed. Her palms started sweating as she settled on the edge of it. The bed was soft, the sheets smoother than it looked. She looked around at the crew, all men, checking their equipment for the scene. A lump formed in her throat and her stomachs started doing backflips. Some people thought the camera lens was the most intimidating thing while doing a nude scene but for Emilia, it was always the eyes behind the camera; the eyes of crew members, some of whom she didn’t know, some of whom who stared much too long. And yet, the pressure, she felt, was on her to feign nonchalance. _How could I?_ Emilia swallowed the shame of still feeling like this when she had done so many nude scenes, she should be a professional by now.

She turned to her side when she felt the bed sink beside her, “alright?” Kit’s dark eyes were studying her face, his body tilted completely towards her. She nodded mutely, “it never gets easier, does it?” his hand rested on her arm. It never ceased to amaze her how Kit seemed to know exactly what she was thinking in any given moment, especially if she was upset.

“No,” Emilia agreed but forced a smile, more for his sake.

“Hey…” he stroked her arm and coaxed her gaze onto his, “I’m here,” her constricted throat slowly eased, “I’ll be damned if I let the camera or any man on this set, save myself,” he grinned cheekily, “see anything they shouldn’t,” she giggled, “they would probably end up with more than an eyeful of me instead, unpleasant as it may be for them but fuck them,”

It sounded so ridiculous to her, she laughed, “my hair and make-up girls would be so happy to hear that you’ll be baring it all,”

Kit snorted, “of course they would be, I worked my arse off in the gym, quite literally,”

Emilia giggled loudly, “so that was what you were going to the gym so frequently for! Let me see!” she reached for his bathrobe but Kit scooted away instantly, “I wouldn’t get to see later!” she feigned a whine.

“No, you’ll be too busy to even think of it later,” Kit smirked, “I’ll make sure of it,” her eyes unwittingly darted to his plump lips at his promise.

A shiver erupted across her body, poised and eager for his lips, his touch and his body. Trying to ignore it and keep up the banter, Emilia chuckled, “says you. This would be a true test of **your** professionalism,”

“Of course it will be, when I get a mouthful of phlegm,” Kit gagged.

“Hey!” Emilia scowled, feeling a sting nonetheless, “I already tried to drain it all, just now,” she muttered grudgingly.

Kit sat down beside her and chuckled, “did you?” she nodded, recalling how unpleasant it was to use the nasal spray to rinse out her phlegm just for this scene, “thanks,” she sniffed and Kit feigned a gag so loud the crew turned to them. Emilia rolled her eyes and nudged him viciously in the ribs. He chuckled and squirmed away.

“But Kitten... do you mind it?” she asked, suddenly thinking if it. Despite his tease of gagging, he hadn’t really complained of it, “me being ill...?”

“No,” Kit replied, completely serious and Emilia could not detect even a hint of the disgust he had so painstakingly feigned previously, “I’m stronger than a little flu snog,” Emilia made a face at the way he described it and Kit laughed at the face she pulled, “what’s the worse that could happen, we could curl up in bed, ill and wallowing in self-pity together,” _sounds great,_ “sounds fantastic,” Kit grinned. Her middle warmed and suddenly, she no longer felt cold.

Jeremy then came to them and they rehearsed it vaguely with their bathrobes still on; basically Dany on top, then Jon flipping them over, slipping between her thighs and thrusting into her. After which, he would pull away and they would look into each other’s eyes before ending it with a kiss. It sounded straightforward and Emilia liked how simple it was in terms of the choreography for she had so much she wanted to deliver in her portrayal of Dany in this scene.

Jeremy added a few stage directions and pointers, informing them he would refrain from calling anything out during the scene and would only add it in after a take; which would mean them having to do more takes. Despite the promise of probably longer hours, both agreed to that, preferring to immerse themselves.

It was what Emilia really loved about working with Kit, beyond how well he knew her and how well they worked together and complemented each other. Kit put all of himself into Jon when most actors would hold back when it got too vulnerable or difficult for them. But Kit thrived in such scenes where Jon suffered or truly felt something. In those scenes, Kit had to bare his heart and soul to the world. He was brave that way and Emilia found she truly admired him for it.

Then it was time to begin their first take. Kit stood from the bed and without preamble, he shed his bathrobes. The candlelight created long shadows across his chiselled scarred torso, his broad shoulders and his muscled arms. Kit had a beautiful body, almost likened to one of those Greek God statues she saw in museums. Emilia felt painfully inadequate beside him.

Then she glimpsed the dark trail of hair on his lower abdomen disappear into the modesty sock. He did not lie; _nice and snug._ She could trace the exact shape of him through the sock and Emilia knew it was because she has seen him many times and the image was burned into her waking mind and her dreams. It had tortured her for many nights and it continued to torture her now.

Her face burned as she felt her body react to him like ice under the scorching sun. She hurriedly brought her gaze to his face to see him looking at her, almost uncertain. She glanced to the waiting crew members, whom Kit had his back to. It was then that Kit unfroze, the uncertainty melting away. Kit knelt on the mattress and scooted his way over to her, sitting in the centre of the bed. He blocked out her view of them, and so their view of her.

“Alright?” he whispered when he sat back on his bent knees before her. She nodded and mutely shed her bathrobes. It was cold and a shiver passed through her body but before she could completely shrug the bathrobes off her shoulders, exposing herself, Kit scooted up to her. He was so close she could feel the heat of his skin on hers. She looked up at him as she pulled the bathrobe completely off her. He took the bathrobe from her, his eyes fixed on hers. _I’m here._

Swallowing, she pressed herself against his chest and abdomen till she could feel his prosthetic scars on her skin. Her hand fell to his chest where she could feel the fine hairs he had on his comparatively hairless chest and she fought the urge to caress him. She felt his chest expand against her bare breasts as he took a deep breath. She glimpsed him hand the bathrobe off behind him to someone from the costume department. Curiously, bare before the crew and him, Emilia did not feel naked at all. She had him, shielding her body from wandering eyes and her heart from unwelcomed lustful thoughts.

She relaxed as she felt his gentle hand settle on her back between her shoulder blades and the other splayed out on the small of her back. He guided them so he lay back on the bed with her pressed against the expanse of his right side. There was not a moment his body left hers, not a moment he allowed anyone to catch a glimpse of her with her pressed up against him like that. When he settled back against the pillows, both his arms around her almost possessively, she decided to make herself comfortable and threw a leg over his playfully so she straddled his thigh. His body shook as he chuckled.

Kit bent a knee, concealing her further from the camera, “alright?” he whispered so softly it escaped only as an exhalation. It was only for her ears and so she smiled at him; _my sweet Kitten. You say you have changed, that you are no longer the same and that you are broken. If that is true, why do I only see my Kitten when I look at you now?_

The AD called for the set to be quiet and for the cameras to roll. Emilia’s heart pounded against her ribcage as she gazed into dark brown eyes which were so tender they might’ve been pools of liquid. The clapper board went off and Emilia was mildly aware of the scene and take being called. The pair of deep set eyes fell to her lips; their gaze held such deep longing they tugged her heart and her lips towards him.

And she went; willingly and completely.

 “Action,”

He met her halfway. His lips received hers readily; open, warm, wet and sweet. His arms tightened around her as if she wasn’t already pressed flushed against him. She pressed her fingers into his ribs, pulling him closer. His kiss was eager, desperate, almost starved. At the same time, he kissed her and touched her with a tenderness that could only be love. _He loved her._ Her heart sang and her body readied itself for him; wetness pooling between her legs. She shifted her hips against his thigh, restless and needy for much needed friction as she tilted to the side to deepen the kiss.

When she made to pull away for a second of air, he followed her with a ferocity, seeming more unable than unwilling to part with her for even a second. His hand cradling her head kept her blissfully trapped against his sweet mouth as his entire body sagged back into the bed, contented for their lips to remain interlocked. His soft lips released her momentarily only for his tongue to dart out and sneak a taste of the left side of her mouth.

She pulled back, pleasantly surprised but he chased her, his forehead pressed to and his nose tucked snugly along hers.

Yearning for his taste already, she tried to kiss him but he denied her. Puzzlement flittered across her hazy, lust-filled mind only momentarily before a hot sweet breath left his mouth audibly and in one fluid motion, he rolled them over.

A part of her wanted to remain where she was, straddling him and moistening his skin with her pooling desire for him. But a larger part of her wanted for him to have her however he wanted her. She wanted to be his, so she let him lower her gently from his arms to the bed, her fingers tracing the warm skin of his shoulders and arm. His arms, one tucked under her cradling her and the other cradling her head, never left her. He held her, precious, under and against him as he positioned himself between her thighs. She could feel him, hard, against her thigh and she fought a moan from escaping her already parted lips.

A soft groan left him in an exhale before she felt his tongue trail across her parted lips then but frustratingly not lingering, “ _yeah…_ ” a guttural whisper from him. _Kitten._

Before she could sought out his lips and tongue again, she felt his hand wrap under her knee and gently brought her leg up as he thrusted against her firmly in one long fluid motion.

Her lips parted in a silent gasp as she felt the hard shape of him push against her entrance, desperately trying but unable to enter; impeded by the modesty sock he wore. She pressed her fingers into his muscled back and he took her lips urgently in an open mouth kiss. But instead of ravaging her like she thought he might, he savoured her; every inch of his lips clinging on to every inch of hers.  

Desperate for him to never part from her, her fingers found his cheek, keeping him close. Her leg he brought up, came up to hook around his hips so she could better feel him that much closer to her aching void; where she wanted him to fill.

The moment her heel dug into the back of his thigh, his hips thrusted languidly but steadily. His lips never left hers as they moved in unison. With each thrust, each time he came up against her sweetly again and again, he grew harder, till she could feel the shape of him prominently through the sock. She slung her arm around his neck, pulling him closer as she felt the throbbing tip of him dip deeper, just past her entrance, than in previous attempts. It was then he has had to swallow her moan; one filled to the brim with desperation to have him in her, to finally fill her and complete her so wonderfully in a way she knew he could-

“Cut. Perfect,”

Both of them startled, their breath hitching audibly as they broke apart. But instead of pulling from her, Kit lowered himself over her, shielding her more thoroughly. Despite knowing his intentions were chivalrous, Emilia could not help the way her body melted eagerly against his; relishing his warmth and tenderness. Her body trembled with unsatiated desire but her heart sang as she basked in the afterglow of such sweet intimacy.

“Next shot,” she was shaken when the crew erupted into motion to adjust the equipment for the new camera angle. He must have felt her trembling for Kit’s hand came up to the spot by her head, just short of cupping her cheek.

“Alright?” he asked, slightly out of breath. She nodded. Suddenly, self-conscious with the crew members around, she lowered and straightened her leg. Kit shifted and Emilia felt his hardness brush against her thigh. Her cheeks warmed when she realised his modesty sock had felt _wet_. She only wished it hadn’t soaked through the sock so he might feel it. She thought he would tease her for it but instead, his face reddened too, “s-sorry,” he stammered out, looking as shaken as she felt.

Emilia took some much needed comfort in that fact, that Kit was as immersed into it as she had been. _Had he wanted it to be real, so badly, like I did? Or was his body only reacting?_

“What for?” she added, teasing, “tasted any phlegm?”

“Yeah, loads,” Kit gagged and she laughed. Just like that, all awkwardness and mild panic dissolved into warm bliss. They stayed like that, indulging in the warmth of each other and comfort in silence while the crew members busied themselves adjusting the equipment.

“Don’t you want to be covered?” Emilia asked eventually asked, “aren’t you cold-“

“No,” he shrugged and a smug look came over his handsome face, stirring her affection for him from deep within her chest, “I’m proud of my arse.” he wiggled his hips and Emilia giggled, trying to ignore the brush of his sock she felt on her inner thigh.

“It is pretty spectacular,” one of the crew members called out in jest and Kit laughed, a good sport as always.

“Of course it is,” Kit replied, grinning. Emilia feigned a look of doubt, raising a brow as she craned her head out from under him to try to catch a glimpse of his arse.

She glimpsed the curve of it, “whoa,” she feigned amazement as if she had seen the whole package and Kit laughed, soaking up the praise like an egoistic sponge. Her hand twitched to tease him further but Emilia didn’t want him to feel awkward if he should want to refuse her touch so she refrained.

Still shaking with mirth, Kit lamented, “I’m tired...”

She giggled, “what? Are your arms beginning to shake?” she brushed her fingers along his straining biceps which held him up over her. He sighed and slowly got heavier on her, “hey! I can’t breathe!” she huffed in frustration as he completely collapsed against her. He grunted and ignored her, his head lolling forward and falling soundly into the pillow by her head.

Her lips parted to complain at how heavy he was but before she could, she thought she felt the sturdy thud of his heart against her breast. Any objection died on her tongue and Emilia quietly indulged in the feel of him and his heart beating against her like that. Slowly, his weight began to feel assuring, so much so Emilia blushed to realise she loved how he felt. It has been a while since they pressed together, skin to skin, and lay there without doing anything beyond taking each breath together.

It was strangely peaceful as Emilia tried to memorise the feel of his firm, muscled torso that her breasts were pressed up against, his arm cradling her to him, his hips nestled snugly between hers, his legs alongside hers. He shifted and she could feel the scratch of the coarse hairs on his calf against hers and the tender, periodic brush of his modesty sock against her inner thigh. Her skin tingled and she felt a gush of moistness pool between her legs. She was then reminded of the first time they were together in this way; the first time she felt how perfectly he fit in her. They were as they are now, but on the sofa in Kit’s flat. He had lamented how he would have to clean the sofa up the next day. Emilia briefly wondered, immensely embarrassed, if the crew would find a patch that needed cleaning too later.

Just as she plotted her quick escape after this scene, Jeremy called for them to prepare the next scene; their close-ups. Their previous take was perfect and he didn’t think they would need to do another take. Emilia did not know if she should feel disappointed or proud.

Kit perked up when she jostled him, his head coming up to look around but his body remained pressed to hers, “good morning,” she teased. The crew settled, ready to film the next take.

He gazed down at her, his gaze softening as he looked between her eyes. A soft breath escaped his lips. The sensation of his warm breath on her lips was intoxicating and her lips unwittingly parted. She could still feel his lips on hers, painfully tender but no less passionate. Her lips trembled with want and his eyes darted down momentarily before they flickered up to meet her eye.

He lowered his lips to hers. All the while, his eyes remained open and connected with hers, chasing away all doubt that he knew exactly what he was doing.

 _He wants to kiss me._ The thought made her heart stutter clumsily against the steady beat of his heart and she reveled in the knowledge.

“Exactly like that,”

They startled and Kit pulled away so fast Emilia wondered if it had been her imagination. They turned to see Jeremy positioned behind the viewer and the crew members watching them.

“Just one thing: maintain the passion of the kiss. Remember, they are driven by passion into this and this shot will follow from the previous, so we will try and replicate how it was for continuity,” Jeremy said.

“Got it,” Kit replied tightly. She turned to him in time to see his adam-apple bob as he swallowed. She would’ve kissed it, if she wasn’t so very much aware of the eyes of the crew and the fact that they haven’t begun filming. They were lucky Jeremy took that moment as rehearsal. But Emilia knew Kit would’ve loved her lips on his neck. _The sounds he would make…The way his beautiful body would squirm and push into her lips at the same time._

Jeremy began calling for the actual take and she bit her lip out of habit before sneaking a taste. She tasted of him. And she yearned for another taste of him.  

“Action,”  

He granted her quiet longing eagerly but he pulled away all too soon and she stilled herself against following him, trying to recall the scene. Her eyes opened to meet warm pools of dark brown that were so familiar. His thumb caressed her temple as she gazed up at him. Her heart swelled at the mere sight of him and Emilia realised she was looking at her whole world.

_What have I done?_ Her throat tightened, making hard to breathe so she took a breath forcibly. _I loved you. I loved you so much, it scared me. I wasn’t brave enough and I am so sorry._

He looked hauntingly beautiful with the long shadows cast across half his face. His eyes were now almost black as he glanced between her eyes, a curious breath leaving his body visibly. As she gazed up at the face that made her heart sing and rent at the same time, Emilia could not recall a time when he looked at her with even a trace of resentment, even if she tore them, a perfect whole, apart. _You are so good… so much better than me. I don’t deserve you, I never have and now, I never will._

_I still love you, the same and more._

_And it still scares me. But I am braver now; I am trying to be._

_So if you get to choose, would you choose me again?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some reference to the First Verse Chapter 10. Some fun-fact: If you go back and read that chapter, you will notice that the description fits the boat scene too :)  
> For the more observant readers, I added in that part about Emilia hooking her leg up around his hips because in the scene, before it cuts to the close up, you see Emilia's knee coming up ;) 
> 
> Extra long chapter for the extra long wait (sorry about that). Also, I know there is not much real progress on their relationship in this but I really didn't want to skip this part that kind of moved them forward on the physical intimacy. 
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed the read and I would love to hear what you all think of this chapter and if I have done the boat scene justice!


	8. Sunset

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Emilia: I’m not sure I’m ready. I’m not sure if this is the right time… what with all the travelling, the time we’re going to spend apart filming Thrones, the new jobs and having to put myself out there. Our careers are both just starting out. And Kit… god knows how much he can take before it all becomes too much. 
> 
> Jenny: He is your first love and you’re always going to love him. But, with him, at this time, you’re not happy, Emilia. There is so much more to love. You don’t stop loving a person because you’re no longer with them. If you two are meant to be together, nothing, absolutely nothing, can keep you two apart, not forever, Emilia, not even yourselves  
> \- Emilia and Jenny Clarke (The Second Verse, Chapter 2) 
> 
> I am not the same. I’m not the Kitten you knew. I smoke, I drink, I do drugs. I'm a mess, Milly. I am a cheater, Milly. I have been cheating on Rose, more times than I can count with random birds I meet at the bar, after I’ve drank too much and snorted a line of coke. I'm cheating on her now.  
> \- Kit Harington (The Last Verse, Chapter 5)
> 
> Don’t worry Kitten, no matter how far away I go, I’ll always come back to you  
> \- Emilia Clarke (The First Verse, Chapter 9)

_October 2016, Northern Ireland, Belfast._

**Kit**

_“That’s a wrap for today,”_

_Kit reluctantly allowed her to sit up, still selfishly shielding her from others. He could hear the crew member approaching with their bathrobes. Blood was rushing in his ears and his heart was hammering heavily against his chest. The tension low in his abdomen made him throb wantonly in the unyielding confines of the damned modesty sock. He felt himself twitch and brush against her thigh._

_The moment he gazed upon her sweet face, Kit felt an impulse to push her back into bed. It was overwhelming and Kit held her tighter around the waist to stop himself. Her eyes darted across his face as she chewed her bottom lip, uncertain and Kit almost growled in frustration at what she was doing to him; how much more difficult she was making the whole process. His self-restraint he had practiced throughout the scene was already pulled taut and on the verge of snapping without the tantalising sight of her worrying her plump, moist lip._

_But Kit would be lying to himself if he hadn’t given in to his desires and thrusted against where he knew she would be most sensitive in the hope of catching a glimpse of her writhing in giddying pleasure beneath him. In the end, he had only seen a flicker of desire in her eyes, bright in the dim light. Nonetheless, he greedily took pleasure in the knowledge that he ignited something in her._

_His modesty sock was so tight now it was almost painful. Her body was still pressed up against him so firmly he could feel the definite shape and softness of her breasts, her peaked nipples, and even that of her ribs against his with startling clarity. His length twitched strongly against her abdomen, longing for her attention. Her eyes fell from observing the crew over his shoulder. They never peer down between them but the way her lips parted just so left no doubt in Kit’s mind that she was aware of his desire. He gazed at her, fighting a smile at the secret they now shared; a secret kept from the others in the very same room. A thrill ran down his spine and Kit felt a shuddering breath leave her parted lips._

_Her body was at complete ease despite how uncomfortable she had looked initially when she had shed her robe and Kit felt his heart sing that of all the multitude of things he failed to do, he could still do at least this for her._

_The crew member holding both their robes stood behind him and Kit thanked him quietly. He retrieved Emilia’s grey one first. He brought it around her bare shoulders before reluctantly pulling from her to fasten the front, concealing her beautiful breasts averted his eyes from but remembered vividly. The moment she was safely tucked into her thick bathrobe, Kit took his own bathrobe and hurriedly wore it._

_He murmured his thanks to the room at large before he fled the room hurriedly. His head was heavy, and he did not trust himself around her any longer than necessary. He made his way to his trailer and tore aside his bathrobe. He gripped himself through the modesty sock. A long, low groan escaped his throat but not because he has gotten so hard he can feel the veins throbbing in time with his racing heart or how good his touch was on his throbbing length. Rather, it was the feel of his modesty sock, completely soaked. The thought of how that came about made him giddy with desire. His trembling fingers fumbled with the knot of the sock he had tied firmly. When it came loose, he eagerly ripped aside the modesty sock, watching and feeling his curved length spring free towards his abdomen. He gripped himself firmly with his free hand as he gazed down at the dark, moist patch on his sock._

_Almost a man possessed, his eyes slipped shut as he brought the sodden fabric up to his nose. He instantly recognised the distinctive, heavy scent of her. It made his mouth water and he licked his lips, tempted to sneak a taste. Taking a deep breath of the scent, he stroked himself frantically._

_A guttural groan ripped itself from deep within his belly as he tossed his head back. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and all he saw was_ her _, in all of her glory; naked, writhing amongst the sheets under him, her face contorted with dizzying pleasure, her sweet mouth open and frozen in a silent moan. She looked like Dany but Kit knew she wasn’t._

 _His tongue darted out and gathered a taste of his sodden modesty sock. Tingles raced down his spine. His fist tightened around his solid, pulsing flesh as he tried to recall how it felt to have her slick, velvet walls constrict around him, massaging him to coax his release as waves of pleasure rolled through her._ It’s been so long.

_“ **Milly** ,” he growled loudly before taking the sock into his mouth, sucking and searching for more of the sweet, heady taste of her. His heavy, tension-filled sacks firmed up, lodging themselves by the base of his length. Strong, hot spurts burned their way through him and left him in rapid succession. He groaned, the sound muffled by the modesty sock he clamped between his teeth. Opening his eyes blearily. he looked down at himself. He stroked and squeezed himself as the remnant of his release dripped from the red, swollen head. _

_Panting, he removed the wet fabric from his mouth. He took in the sight of the mess he has made before he dutifully cleaned it up with the sodden modesty sock, “what the fuck are you doing, Kit Harington?” he hissed to himself as he wiped himself clean first before proceeding to the floor._

Kit opened his eyes to stare at the blank ceiling of the hotel room. He glanced down when he felt something wet on his lower abdomen. Dreading it, he pulled aside the thick duvet to see a cloudy, sticky pool on his abdomen. He glared at his red and swollen but quickly shrinking length accusingly, “fuck,” he whispered, feeling the telling tension low in his abdomen ebb away.  

For the past two days, his dreams revolved stubbornly around the filming of that scene. No matter what he did, he could not avoid it. He blamed it on Emilia’s sudden absence. She had flown back to London to see her mum on impulse before she would have to fly off to Spain. Thus, Kit found himself waiting for her to return so they could fly off to Spain together, as previously planned.

She was only gone for a day. _37 hours to be exact._ And Kit missed her so much it was bordering on ridiculous. With nothing much to do but wallow in longing, Kit started planning her birthday. Her birthday was in a few days, two days to be exact, and Kit had a few ideas how they could celebrate it. She was turning 30 and Kit wanted it to be special for her so he had decided to put into motion all of his ideas. _Whoever said one can only celebrate the day of one’s birth only on one’s birthday?_ He made a few phone calls and some online transactions before he was left smiling in anticipation for how she would react when she received her gifts.

His first arrangement would happen today. They had a few hours between the time she would land in Belfast to the time of their flight to Spain. There seemed to be only one logical thing for them to do, one place they must go. Kit felt a tingle of anticipation that made his toes curl, his lips curve into a smile; to see her and to spend time with her.

_She will be the happiest woman on this Earth. I will make sure of it._

 

**Emilia**

**I’M HERE.**

Her heart fluttered at his familiar choice of words and an unwitting smile graced her lips. She folded her lips against it but it was futile.

She had just landed in Belfast. The first text she received was from him, telling her he was at the airport to fetch her. She hadn’t expected it at all. Despite the sudden change of plans, which Emilia loathed, she felt unbridled joy fill and expand in her chest. She would see him sooner than she planned and that made any change of plans more than okay for her.

 **Miss me?** She replied him cheekily as she walked briskly past the baggage collection point, not having checked in any bags for her one night spent in London. She did not even spend much of it sleeping. She travelled out to her mum’s place and had chat with her mum late into the night.

Her phone vibrated and she glanced down. **Yes.** Her breath caught in her throat and Emilia didn’t dare to believe- **sucker.** Her heart fluttered and Emilia scoffed, rolling her eyes. Nonetheless, she smiled as she jogged towards the gates. His presence meant more than any amount of teasing he could subject her to.

For the first time, it wasn’t anxiety she felt as she scanned the people waiting for arrivals. It wasn’t the paparazzi she was looking for. She felt excited, unbelievably so. It was ridiculous to her, considering she didn’t feel half as excited when she returned home, to London. She slowed down to a stroll as her eyes searched the small crowd for a head of raven curls.

Her phone went off again. **Turn around.** She did, instantly.

Kit was walking towards her. He was wearing sunglasses like she was and a grey cap, presumably to hide his distinctive curls. The sight of him tugged and pulled her forward and Emilia felt an impulse to close the remaining distance between them as quickly as humanly possible but forced herself to stay put. _For fucks sake, how long has it been since I saw you last anyway?_ He was wearing a black jumper with navy jeans and black boots. Pulling her gaze from his fitting clothes, she glimpsed him removing his sunglasses and she swallowed before meeting his eye. His brown eyes were light and there was a twinkle in them that Emilia cherished.

As he came to a stop before her, he smiled, one so wide they revealed neat rows of little white, squarish teeth. The sight of it tugged at her heart and she helplessly mirrored it. He bent and took her bag from her. His fingers brushed hers and her heart fluttered, “how’s your mum?”

“Good,” Emilia smiled. She hesitated for only a moment before she grabbed his cap.

“Hey!” he protested but she grinned as she revealed his curls to be loose under his cap. She loved the sight of his curls like this. If she was no longer allowed to run her fingers through them, she would at least be able to look at them, “give it back,” Kit huffed, sounding annoyed but the smile was still etched on his face.

“No,” she giggled and put it on. Kit appraised how she looked with the cap on critically but Emilia could not find it in her to be self-conscious when she was this exhilarated to be back. _With you_. She shot him a cheesy grin. Kit chuckled, his hand coming up and she forced herself to remain still as he removed her sunglasses. His eyes were a lighter shade of brown this day than she thought. Then he tucked her hair behind her ear so they didn’t get in the way of the cap. He smiled, a small contained smile. He handed her her sunglasses before he reached to his side and brought a camera to his face. She hadn’t noticed the camera before, “what are you doing?” Emilia covered her face.

“Selling this to the tabloids,” Kit muttered from behind the camera.

“Stop,” she whined and reached to cover his lens with her hand.

He leant back to avoid her hand and snapped a photo. He was grinning mischievously as he brought the camera down to look at the photo he had snapped. A look of triumph crossed his face and Emilia snorted at him, feigning deep annoyance.

“New camera?” she asked.

He shrugged, “kind of,” he looked up at her and flashed a smug smile.

“I’m suing for that photo to be deleted,” Emilia mocked a scowl.

“Sure, go ahead,” Kit rolled his eyes. He reached for his cap on her head and she tried to duck. Instead of snatching his cap back, Kit tucked stray strands of hair behind her ear and pulled the cap more securely over her head. Then he patted her on her head over the cap, “let’s go,” he winked; or tried to.

Emilia keeled over in laughter as he pretty much blinked rather than winked but it wasn’t because of the lack of effort and that made it all the more funny. Her heart expanded with adoration for his endearing inability to wink.

“Come on,” he huffed in annoyance but she could hear his amusement in his soft tone though her giggles. She wrapped both arms around her middle, her eyes tearing with mirth, “ _gods_ , is it even that funny?” he complained.

“You-you have no idea!” she giggled.

“Alright, whatever,” Kit said and she felt his hand wrap around her wrist, pulling her in the direction of the exit, presumably. He ignored her pointedly as she giggled periodically on their way out of the airport. Every time she managed to quell her laughter, because her stomach was starting to hurt quite a bit, a glance at him would evoke more giggles in her. At this point, Emilia could hardly differentiate her amusement from sheer happiness that he was here, fetching her from the airport.

It wasn’t until they got into the taxi, did Emilia settle down.

It was then she noticed Kit’s hand covering hers, which was on the seat between them. He had put it there heavily, scowling accusingly for laughing at him and for such an extended period of time. He never removed it even when her laughter quelled, “where are we going?” Emilia decided to feign nonchalance and ignore the way her heart beat shallowly and way too quickly to be considered remotely healthy.

Kit smiled sideways at her then he glanced to his watch, the one she bought for him years ago, “are you hungry?”

“Starving,” Emilia complained, her other hand covering her growling stomach.

“Thought so,” Kit rolled his eyes, “tired?”

“Fuck yes,” she groaned. She never really got used to travelling so much and planes and airport tired her out more than working did.

Kit huffed in seemingly annoyance but Emilia pursed her lips against a smile when she felt his thumb absently begin to caress the back of her hand. That simple gesture conveyed more sympathy and understanding than Kit would ever allow himself to extend explicitly to her, “a meal, then straight to bed,” he commanded.

She sighed, happy at the lovely thought of snuggling down for a quick nap on a full belly, “what time is our flight?” she asked.

“8pm,” he replied, “plenty of time, don’t worry,”

Emilia nodded. Then suspicion rose. Kit was awfully assertive about her schedule today, “what are you up to?” she turned to him.

Kit stiffened in the seat, just slightly around his shoulders but it raised all the alarm bells in her head, “nothing, what makes you think I’m up to something,” he shrugged convincingly.

Emilia smiled at his attempt to lie to her, “since when did you become such a terrible liar?” she feigned a frown and watched him squirm, satisfied.

“I’m not lying,” he rolled his eyes, “why would I?”

“Yes,” she replied, “why would you?” she watched him unblinkingly.

“Paranoid,” Kit muttered. Her hand twitched to brush him across the nape of his neck. And maybe, she could even pull him to her for a kiss… Her gaze fell to his lips and Emilia found herself wondering what he would taste like today. She knew by heart how he tasted by now, she dreamt it even in her waking moments, but it was the little additions from his morning that peaked her curiosity and tempted her to lean in to sample him. _Has he had his morning coffee? Has he had a smoke?_ She didn’t smell cigarettes on his clothes but that did not abate her worry that he has been smoking excessively again for she knew he had a habit of washing up and changing his clothes after smoking.

She met his eye then to see his gaze on her. She flushed, flustered as she turned her gaze out the taxi window. There was no doubt in her mind that he had caught her staring at him. She tried to recall the look in his eye when he had caught her but she didn’t notice, too busy trying, in vain, to salvage the situation.

The taxi came to a stop outside their usual café and Emilia’s face lit up at the thought of the mouth-watering fry-ups they made. The only person who made better fry-ups than the one this café made was her Dad. Since he got ill, she never tasted the fry-ups he made. The thought of her dad made her heart rent and longing wringed all her blood from it.

She felt a large, warm hand squeeze hers. Turning to her side, Kit was looking down at her, his brows knitted with worry, “what’s wrong?”

Emilia squeezed his hand back assuredly, not liking the furrows between his brows, “miss my dad is all,” it surprised her how easily she replied him with the truth. She watched as the furrows eased only for his brows to raise in hurt.

“The fry-up?” Kit asked, his voice soft, barely a whisper. She was surprised. She knew Kit was attuned her needs and her thoughts but this was bordering on telepathic and Emilia felt a child-like thrill pass through her at the idea that he knew her so well it was like he read her mind. But Emilia was long past the point of believing in fairytales like soul-mates or ‘the one’. She reckoned she must have looked surprised for Kit replied her, again demonstrating telepathic-like abilities with her, “you told me, your dad makes the best fry up you have ever had. The one here comes in a close-second,”

Emilia did not remember telling him that but she could not explain how else he would know if she didn’t. Her heart swelled that Kit had remembered something she told him that she herself didn’t even remember telling him, “you remember,” she smiled.

“Of course I do,” he looked mildly offended and tapped the bill of her cap with a finger. She scowled at him as she adjusted the cap but he only chuckled and tugged her by her hand into the café.

* * *

_“Emilia?”_

_Emilia looked up as she placed her bag down by the door. She watched her mum round the corner, looking shocked to see her. Without warning, Emilia launched herself into her mother’s arms and unbidden tears flooded into her eyes, “mum,” she sobbed._

_“Oh Emilia,” she felt her mother rub up and down her spine like she used to do when Emilia was little, “you’re strangling me,” her mother joked._

_Emilia let out a watery laugh. Her dad used to say that and after his passing, her mother seemed to have taken on some of his old jokes. Emilia supposed it was the way her mother coped. To some extent, both mother and daughter felt better having a reminder that her father was never and will never be truly gone. Emilia released her mother only to hold her by the elbows._

_Her mother studied her face closely before she tsk in blatant disapproval. Emilia was escorted to the garden and into the comfy garden seat her father used to occupy. She sank into it and Emilia felt her heart break slightly when she thought she could feel the shape of his body in the cushions. She could still picture her dad sitting where she sat, vividly. At this point, Emilia was convinced that it would never stop hurting._

_Emilia gazed out into the gardens to see rare sunlight filtering in. She heard her mother approach and in her hands, she held two cups of tea. An unwitting smile graced her lips and she eagerly took a warm cup in between her freezing hands, “thank you,” she said as her mother settled in the chair beside hers._

_For a long moment, the two of them sat there, enjoying the rare warmth the sun afforded them. Emilia soaked in the comfortable, quiet companionship and felt herself, tight and wounded up for a long time, start to unwind._

_Emilia had no idea how much time has passed but it started to get colder and her teacup was empty, “come on,” the chair creaked as Jenny Clarke rose from the chair beside hers. For a moment, Emilia panicked that the moment she had to share was over. And all because Emilia needed more than a moment to collect her thoughts and more courage she had at this moment to begin. But her mother only said, “we’ll sit inside, by the heater. It’s getting chilly,”_

_Emilia took one last look at the garden before she stood. Her mother smiled at her, an arm raised encouragingly and Emilia proceeded into the house. Her mother had a hand on her back, rubbing her shoulders affectionately. She sat by the heater, as her mother instructed and felt panic grip her as she finally found the courage to even start thinking of what she wanted to say, what she wanted to ask her mother._

_“More tea?”_

_Emilia nodded eagerly, “please,” her voice cracked and her mother could not conceal the look of concern for her. Emilia watched her mother’s retreating back as she went to get them another cup of tea. She could not help but wonder then if she would disappoint her mother for what she wanted to tell her. Emilia could not even begin to think what her mother would say._

_Jenny returned too soon with another two cups of steaming tea. Emilia took her time to take a sip of it, “mum,” she started, forcing herself to do so before looking up so she could not back down._

_“Yes, dear?” Jenny’s casual tone, perfected over the years, soothed her anxiety and fears. Not entirely but it was enough for Emilia to continue._

_“I love him,” she ripped the words from deep beneath her heart; the truth of which she had denied and tried to hide from for far too long. Tears welled up in her eyes and her throat narrowed, making it hard for her to breathe much less talk, “but it’s too late,” she whispered. Forcing herself to look at her mother through her tears, Emilia sobbed, “he’s chosen someone else, my other best friend. And no matter how much I want him,” she shook her head, “I could not do that to her, or to him; because I gave him up. It’s my fault-“_

_“No darling, don’t think that it is,” the warm cup of tea was out of her hands in an instant and in its place, her mother’s warm hands clutched her freezing ones, “you let him go for a reason. It wasn’t the right time. Both of you had so much to look forward to, outside of your relationship. Giving them up, both your dream and his, wasn’t what was best at that time,” Emilia felt a gentle thumb brush away a searing tear before lifting her head up by her chin so she could do nothing but meet her mother’s eyes; her own eyes._

_“How did I know what is best? How do I know?” Emilia bit back a sob._

_“We don’t. We never will know for sure but we can use our own judgement to_ try _to do what we think is right,” Jenny smoothed back locks of her brown hair that has fallen into her face, “your father and I raised you to make your own decisions, your own judgements and we have always prided ourselves on how well we did with you, and Ben,” the mention of her father gripped at her heart painfully but it was sobering too. She knew her mother was right, and she spoke for both herself and her father, “so,” Emilia swallowed more sobs and forced herself to meet her mother’s solemn eyes, “is this the right time now?”_

_Her heart was practically screaming that it was but her head spoke for her, “he has someone else now-“_

_“Emilia, forget everyone else for a moment. Just for the two of you, tell me,” her mother’s firm tone effectively silenced her and captivated all her attention, “is this the right time? What does your heart and your head say?”_

_She thought of Kit and the first thing that came to mind were his deep set eyes, looking at her as they usually would. The look in those brown depths were softer than she thought possible and the sight of them made her heart sing and flutter in mild panic. The crinkles at the corners of his eyes made her knees weak and ignited a yearning to kiss him, “yes. My heart says yes,” she whispered, “I’m ready now, more than I was,” Emilia blinked away tears as she dared to say what she always thought, “I’m choosing scripts now. It wouldn’t hurt if I decide to take a break for a while, even if I have to discuss that with Michael. I could choose events to go for, Liz wouldn’t push that hard for me to go unless they are really important. But it isn’t_ just _about me…”_

_“And Kit? How is his work now?”_

_Emilia thought back to the time he lamented that he will choose his projects more carefully and resolved to only take roles he wanted and felt strongly for, rather than go for it to put his name out there, “the same,” Emilia could not stop the smile that crossed her lips as she admitted it, “we’ve always paralleled each other, in our careers. It’s getting annoying really,” Emilia caught herself before she get carried away again. Talking about Kit did that to her, more often than not._

_A knowing smile was etched to Jenny’s face in a way Emilia has seen only too many times in her life, “so there’s that,”_

_“There is that,” Emilia echoed, nodding. It felt good to admit it out loud; that not merely was she ready but he was as well._

_“Both of you finally have some space in your life for something other than your dreams and global stardom,” Jenny chuckled._

_“It’s funny really,” Emilia thought aloud, “Thrones used to keep us apart for most of the year, making it so damn difficult,” a flicker of disapproval crossed Jenny’s face at Emilia’s choice of words and Emilia bit her tongue until the look passed, “and now, it brought us together again. Thrones gave us our careers, our successes… and now, both of us can choose, something else other than our careers…”_

_Jenny nodded, “it’s the right time.”_

_“But he has already chosen…” Emilia whispered._ And it is not me.

 _“Has he?” Jenny asked, “he would have to know_ all _his choices to choose, Emilia,”_

_“I told him, mum,” Emilia sighed, “I told him I love him,” she sighed, feeling shame well in her chest but when she looked at her mother, she did not see the disappointment that she thought would be there. Instead, her mother looked curious, “I told him that and he told me he is not the same…” Emilia sat straighter then, protesting, “but neither of us really are,” she scoffed, “we’re fu-“ she caught herself just barely, “we’re thirty this year for goodness sake!”_

_“Slow down, Emilia. Why did he say that?” her mother raised a brow._

_Emilia hesitated but knew she could never, nor would she keep that from her mother. She trusted her mother, not only to keep her secrets but also to keep an open mind, “Kit…he has been drinking and smoking, quite a bit and… taking drugs…” her mother’s brows raised so high then Emilia was afraid of what her mother would say. She wasn’t afraid of her mother’s disapproval of Kit, Emilia was afraid of what she would have to do if her mother did disapprove of Kit. Choosing between her family and Kit would be agony; probably the hardest thing she would have to do, “but he hates it. I know he does… sometimes-“ her voice caught in her throat, “sometimes I think he hates himself for it,” tears welled up in her eyes at the thought of Kit’s pained eyes as he told her he didn’t want to smoke anymore. Emilia herself knew first-hand how painful that was; living as someone you hate._

_Her mother was quiet as she pondered and fear gripped her. Finally, Emilia could not wait another second and she reached for her mother, “Mum…” she squeezed her hand and pleaded, knowing her mother would know why she was pleading. Her mother studied her face for a long moment._

_“Milly,” Jenny sighed, saying her nickname the way her father used to. Sometimes, Emilia felt her mother has unknowingly embodied her father just so both her and her brother would have both parents again, “he’s your first love,” she sighed, a breath of resignation leaving her._

_Emilia nodded, her eyes watery again, “and I will always love him,” she smiled despite herself. Her mother understood and Emilia let that knowledge comfort her._

_Jenny chuckled then and Emilia raised a brow in question, “you have that same look,” she explained, “as when you are three; when you told your father and I, you wanted to be an actor,” Emilia smiled, “and like I told you then, I will tell you now. It will be difficult, it will be hard work. Even without all of these… challenges,” Emilia felt a deep appreciation for her mother then, for speaking of Kit; someone Emilia cares deeply for, with such care, “but you’re never afraid of toll,” a proud smile etched on her mother’s face and Emilia tried to memorise it for upcoming moments in which she would need to be strong, “tell him, Emilia. Let him know his choices. Explain it to him. Like you’ve explained it to me,”_

_“What about… Rose?” Emilia asked, guilt twisting her brows into deep furrows._

_“Kit makes his own choices,” her mother said. Emilia stared at the floor, her guilt unabated in the least, “you say you love him. So what will you do if Kit chooses between the two of you and chose Rose?”_

_Emilia felt a lump form in her throat, her heart threatening to break at just the thought of the possibility. Her lips trembled but she pressed them together against the fear, braver than she thought she could be, “I’d-“ she swallowed, “as long as Kit is happy. I’d let him go,”_ He deserves to be happy, always.

 _“And if Rose loves him, she would want the same for him. She would do the same for him. If she doesn’t,” her mother said, her voice ringing with confidence_ , _“well…” her mother smiled knowingly._

Rose wouldn’t deserve Kit. Kit deserves nothing but the best.

_“Kit told you of his imperfections, he needed a truck full of courage for that. After all that, he deserves to at least know his choices,” Emilia gazed down at their hands as her mother caressed her knuckles, “do you love him enough to put yourself out there for him to choose? And risk him not choosing you? Or to wait, until he figures it out?” without a second thought, Emilia nodded; surer of this than she has felt about something for a long time, “I’m not going to lie to you Emilia, it will be scary and it will hurt. He’s broken…The poor lad,”_

_“He wouldn’t like it if he heard you say that,” Emilia pointed out, a weak smile on her face. Kit’s constant lamenting may seem like a bid for pity from others but it’s really the attention he wants._ And he moans to me most of all. _Emilia almost chuckled at the fond memory of him constantly whinging about his heavy cloak and the cold; all through five seasons._

_Jenny chuckled, “no and I suppose he never needed it. That boy is nothing if not persistent; resilient,”_

Of course he is… he always has been. And yet... _“Did I do that to him? Did I break him?” Emilia asked, immensely afraid to hear the answer, “when I left him,”_

_Her pinched lips answered her question and Emilia felt physically sick that she has dealt the greatest hurt of all to him, “that is what love is, darling. It breaks you, but it also builds you up. Only the ones whom we love can truly hurt us. There isn’t one without the other,”_

And he loved me. That is his greatest tragedy and his greatest joy.

As he is mine.

* * *

“-wake up,”

She was rudely pulled from a deep, blissful sleep, “no,” she murmured and snuggled deeper into the softness and warmth that enshrouded her. She felt immensely comfortable, safe and so, very drowsy.

A chuckle shook the warm surface her head rested on and despite the lovely sound, she frowned in annoyance as she was jostled. “Milly,” she felt warm breath brush her face, tickling her. She caught a whiff of coffee then. His tone was gentle, coaxing and she swallowed a contented sigh, “come on, if you don’t get up, we’ll have no time before the flight,” his hand rubbed her arm, contrary to what he was saying.

In an instant, her mind was yanked entirely from sleep as she heard what he was suggesting. She forced her eyes open and her gaze fell automatically to where she knew his groin was, under the white duvet. She felt her body warm and tingle in anticipation as she wondered if he was already hard. She swallowed as she recalled how he had felt against her; desperately twitching to seek entrance. Unwittingly, she scooted closer to him.

“I mean it Milly, we have to get out of bed now,”

She froze. _Out of bed? He didn’t mean-_ Instantly, her face burned.

Just then, he peeked down at her, “why are you so red? What did you think I was-“ he paused and she peered up at him to see realisation spread behind his eyes, “gods! Your mind… it’s filthy!” Kit lamented and his cheeks grew red behind his beard.

Despite her embarrassment, Emilia giggled, “you sounded suggestive!” she argued.

“No. My god!” he cried, pulling his arm from around her to press the knuckles of both hands into his eyes.

“For fuck’s sake, you’re no bloody virgin Mary yourself,” Emilia snorted and reluctantly rolled back to her side of the bed. Beside her, Kit snorted right back, looking so scandalised that Emilia felt like suffocating him with her pillow. She glanced to the clock to see that she had slept for a few hours. After their exceedingly satisfying meal, Emilia had changed into her most comfortable set of pyjamas (ignoring Kit’s teasing) and dove into her bed. Despite Kit insisting he did not need a nap, he eventually crawled into bed beside her, putting the blame of temptation completely on her. Emilia did not argue; too busy being pleased that she had her live body pillow for this nap. It wasn’t easy falling asleep without him now and she put the blame entirely on him. _Kit can be so clingy..._

“Get changed,” Kit said suddenly.

She turned back to look at him, “where are we going?” she asked curiously.

“Out,” Kit rolled his eyes as he sat up beside her.

“Oh really, I thought we’re coming back to bed after changing,” Emilia replied cheekily. He shot her a glare but the edge of his lips twitched up. She then looked to him to see his pale face. His eyes looked small and Emilia knew he has just woken up, as she did. His usual parting was lost and his curls were settled haphazardly around his head; a beautiful mess. Swallowing a chuckle because she knew he would fix it before she could if she did, she reached for him.

She froze as he reached for her at the exact moment.

A smile spread across her face as it did over his. It chased sleep from his eyes, brightening them. He resumed animation sooner than she did and his hand went to her hair. Despite how strong, large and rough his hand looked, Emilia knew them to be gentler than any touch she has known. His thick fingers intertwined with her hair and he combed it out gently.

A twinkle of mischief entered his soft gaze, “I can’t be seen with you looking like this,” Kit teased, his tone soft.

Emilia snorted and rolled her eyes, “look in the mirror, Kitten,” she reached for his hair and combed it back for him. Her fingers snagged on a knot in his curls and she gently shook it out. Kit chuckled and shook his head, sending his magnificent curls flying around his head. Emilia laughed, bringing up her other hand to hold his head still beneath her hands. Then she proceeded to comb his hair.

As she marvelled at the feel of his soft curls between her fingers, Emilia realised his fingers in her hair had stopped and his hand, tangled in her hair, cradled her head gently. She gazed at him to see his eyes fluttering close as her fingers raked across his scalp. Smiling, she combed his hair until there were no more knots and his mane of curls fell into some semblance of neatness. Emilia envied Kit in that sense; his hair never needed anything more than fingers and two minutes.

Extracted her fingers from his hair, she cupped his cheek and brushed his beard, pretending to be neatening it too while she snuck a feel of it, “am I ready for the red carpet now, Ms Clarke?” his eyes opened and he grinned cheekily at her.

Scowling, she pinched his cheek, to which his grin only widened; stealing the air from her lungs and all of her heart. _It’s hardly fair, Kitten._

* * *

It became clear to Emilia where they were going when she spotted the Belfast castle from their taxi. She had turned to Kit then, her heart swelling deep in her chest. It was then Emilia realised that tomorrow, six years ago, they have came here together.

It was where she made her wish, her birthday wish, that Thrones would be a huge success. And it was.

It was the place Kit promised her and she promised herself they will work so hard and wouldn’t give up no matter what until they made it. And they did. Harington and Clarke were almost household names now, so much so it annoyed Kit.

It was where Kit first told her he was falling in love with her. It was where he first kissed her. It was where he promised her they would visit together to watch the sunset every year. _Until we’re so old we can’t walk up these slopes._ It was where they met again after months of not seeing the other. It was where she came whenever she needed him and in some way or another, there he would be.

_Maybe it can be special to us again._

_Kit makes his own choices._ Emilia could hear her mother telling her. It was then she began building the courage to ask him, she knew there was no better place than here.

Emilia yelped as she slipped on a particularly wet spot on the muddy path. Before she could fall, she felt a strong grip on her upper arm, holding her up firmly. She found Kit’s accusing gaze, “be careful,” he muttered. He glanced across the path ahead, filled with mud, before his glance fell to her. It seemed a decision was made when he gently took her hand and planted it firmly on the crook of his bent arm.

She hid her smile as Kit turned and resumed walking up the path, “Why are we here, Kitten?” she thought aloud, observing him.

Kit turned his gaze from the path to meet hers, “don’t you know what day it is?” he asked her gently, “or almost is,” his eyes twinkled.

 _The day you first kissed me._ Emilia thought but she didn’t dare to blurt it out and risk making him uncomfortable and driving him away. _Like the last time I told him I love him._

She shook her head instead and Kit glanced between her eyes, pursing his lips against a smile. He knew she knew, “later,” he told her. Glancing up to the sky, he picked up the pace, “need me to carry you?” he asked teasingly and Emilia had half a mind to say yes, just so she could hold him. But she didn’t want to lie to him again and say no so instead, she punched him on the arm with her free hand.

“Piss off,” she mocked a scowl and Kit laughed.

Their trek was quiet, peaceful and Emilia realised she hadn’t felt such serenity in a while. She knew the man beside her had everything to do with how she felt.

They arrived at the grassy slope they have unofficially made their viewpoint of the sunset with more than enough time to spare. They have stopped at it the first time simply because they climbed slower than they needed to and couldn’t get to the viewpoint without risking having to trek back in the dark. It may not be the best viewpoint or the recommended one but it was perfect to Emilia because it was theirs.  

He turned to her and she smiled at him as they proceeded off the path to sit down on the grass.

Emilia was wondering where she should begin when Kit spoke first, “you know, I just realised I have never actually _seen_ the sunset from here,” he gazed out into the horizon, overlooking Belfast town.

 

Emilia paused, thinking back to the previous times. It was true. She herself had only seen the sunset once and even then, her mind had been preoccupied with him bent on stealing a kiss from her.  They have been too distracted by the other in the other times they were here. Once, they have even left before the sun could set, preferring to grab a drink at the bar. Emilia felt guilty then that watching the sunset was the last thing she had planned for both of them this evening as well.

However, when she turned to Kit, he was smiling fondly at the view. _It wasn’t too long ago when you looked at me that way and could not look away._ Emilia thought but quickly pulled her mind from going down that path that would only end in her not telling Kit what she needed to. But looking at him now, beside her, Emilia felt afraid. She did not know how he felt for her. Sure, she knew he cared for her, he always had since the first time she met him. _But did he love me? Did he love me enough to choose me again?_

She gazed to his hand to see his hand on the grass between them. His fingers were picking absently at the blades of grass.

“Clarke,” he spoke and she glanced up to see that his gaze was fixed on the view, not sparing her even a glance and Emilia was glad that he hadn’t caught her looking at his hand, “happy birthday,”

Her jaw dropped. She had forgotten.

He glanced to her then, his face soft, serene.

She blinked and replied, “thank you but you’re…early.”

Kit chuckled, “can’t have someone wishing you before I do,”

She rolled her eyes at him, “so fucking competitive, even in this,”

“Of course,” he teased, “I never lose. Wait, did your mum wish you when you dropped by home?” he seemed genuinely concerned.

Emilia laughed, “no! Unlike you, she actually has a concept of time and date,”

Kit feigned a wince, “ouch, Clarke. That hurts,”

“Good,” she snapped.

He chuckled, shaking his head and she found herself watching the way his curls move around his head, “well? Are you going to make a birthday wish? You did six years ago and fuck, it came true,” _A birthday wish? Six years ago I wanted nothing more than for my career to actually start looking up, for Thrones to be a success._ She gazed down at his hand. _There’s only one thing I want now._

Taking a deep breath, she covered his hand with hers and was again, struck with how small her hand was in comparison to his. His fingers fondling the blade of grass, froze. She forced her gaze to his face so she could study his reaction. Like his fingers, he was frozen. Then his gaze fell to their hands. He had done this to her six years ago and Emilia mused at how his reaction mirrored her own. Glad he did not yank his hand from under her meaningful touch, she was emboldened to slip her hand under his to hold his hand properly.

He still wasn’t looking at her. He seemed more unable to than he was intentionally avoiding her gaze.

“Kitten,” she whispered, beseeching him to meet her eye. He turned his head to her and it was a moment later before his gaze followed to meet and hold hers. She was captivated as she looked into his deep-set eyes, the dark brown in them warmer than any sunset Emilia has ever seen. He had eyes that spoke louder than his voice could. A look from them had the ability to make her weak at the knees as it could make her heart leap in joy or sink with dread.

_He’s beautiful._

In his eyes now, she saw his uncertainty, his fear and felt them as her own. A shuddering breath left her all at once and with her next breath, she drew in all of her courage to begin, “I love you,” his gaze that previously gazed between her eyes froze and his hand in hers stiffened. But he didn’t tear his hand from hers and Emilia soldiered on, “I know you told me you’re not the same. But I- I love you still. No matter what happens, no matter what you do, or did, I will always love you and want you…”

His brown eyes looked pained as they welled up with tears and the sight of it wrenched at her heart.

She fought her own tears and continued, “what you’re facing now and whatever comes, I want to be there to face those things with you, to help you, to be whatever you need me to be and do for you whatever you need me to. Because, there is no one else I would rather go through these things with. It’s always you, Kitten,” her weak voice trailed off and she sniffed back her tears and sobs so she could continue, “I know because I have tried. I see you happy with Rose and I tried to forget, I tried to let you go but… I can’t. I keep coming back to you no matter how far I go or how hard I try to stay away. You make me happy and all you have to do is, _be_. I just-“ she choked over her own words, “I just want to give you a fraction of what you give me, every single day we have spent together since the beginning. Because no matter who you think you’ve become, you are loved,”

“I know I don’t deserve you; after all I have done to you,” courage seeped from her at the reminder of the singularly horrible thing she has done; to tear them apart. Emilia dropped her gaze, never feeling more undeserving to be there, to say those words to him, “but you deserve everything you want. You deserve the very best. Kitten,” she hated the way her voice trembled but she made herself meet his eye for what she was about to say. She didn’t want him to have any more doubts, “I know I am not much but now, I am ready to give everything that I am, to you,” she searched his face, frozen in surprise and she almost choked over her next words, “if you would have me,” her gaze fell the moment she uttered the words, too frightened to see his reply in his eyes.

Silence.

She stared at their hands. She held his with both of hers, the only way she could hold him properly, the way he deserved to be held, “I don’t need an answer right now…if you need more time,” she brushed his knuckles with her thumb, marvelling at how soft the skin between his knuckles felt, “I can wait. For as long as you want me to,” she whispered, echoing his own words that once comforted her. Tentatively, afraid he wouldn’t allow even this, she lifted his hand to her lips and pressed a soft, lingering kiss on the back of his fingers.

Fear gripped her when his fingers squeezed her momentarily before he pulled from her grasp. Emilia did not fight it and let him. She gazed at her empty hands before she allowed them to fall back, defeated into her lap. She swallowed before dragging her eyes up to meet his. Tears streaks embellished his cheeks and his gaze held only more tears.

She was aghast to see him in tears, desperate to soothe him, “Kitten…” she reached for him and tugged him to her by his arms. Relief surged into her when he leaned into her embrace. He buried his face into her shoulder and Emilia held him firmly as she felt every quiet sob that wracked his body, “it’s okay,” she whispered thickly, her hand coming up to weave its way through his curls and cradle his head to her, “whatever you choose,” _even if you choose Rose,_ “I won’t ever leave you,”

“N-no,” was the first thing he said since she began.

The one word chilled her to the very core of her bones. Her stomach sank and she suddenly felt nauseous for what that one word meant.

_No, I would not have you._

_No, I don’t want you with me._

_No, I don’t want your love._

_No, you don’t deserve me._

Her entire body seemed to have turned to ice. Her eyes were curiously dry following his reply but her arms do not loosen around him for he needed her to hold him now, no matter how she felt. His hands held her firmly to him and she turned to press a kiss to his hair, “it’s okay…” she said softly, practically a whimper as she steeled herself to be strong when he couldn’t.

“No,” he whispered again, “it’s not,” he sniffed noisily before he withdrew from her, his body still shaking. She reached for him but Kit caught her hands before she could touch him. It stung, that he wouldn’t allow her to touch him but he held her hand instead of letting her go and it soothed the sting a little, “I already have an answer; one and the same, always,” she felt a glimmer of hope begin to mend her heart but she daren’t hope. Not yet, “but I need you to wait for me,” she was utterly confused then. He chuckled weakly and his other hand came up to cup her cheek.

She smiled automatically at the sight of his smile, albeit a hesitant one, “I-I don’t understand, Kitten,” she stammered even as she leaned into his touch, already longing for more.

“Milly,” he whispered and his gaze darted down, almost shyly and Emilia realised she had never seen him like this. He was always smug, and annoying, “as much as I would love to have you, I want to have all of myself to give to you too,” his words and their meaning struck her so suddenly she was dumbfounded for a long moment. It was like her mind could not even begin to entertain this possibility, having spent most of its time on the flight preparing for the worse. Even as he smiled, brushing her cheek one more time before his hand lowered to hold her shoulders, she was still. Gently, he tugged her to him so she gazed up at him, “so, Ms Clarke, will you wait for me?”

 _What-?_ She puzzled. Sudden realisation washed over her. _Oh._ “Rose?” Emilia uttered.

“Rose,” Kit confirmed, a small smile on his lips.

For all the guilt she felt towards the name of that person, her heart expanded with a joy so pure and immense she is overwhelmed and giddy with it in an instant. It filled every one of her senses; her skin erupted with shivers, the air smelled sweeter than she remembered, the sound of her name as it rolled off his tongue echoed in her ear and she saw only him. The only thing missing was the taste of him. She only had a memory of it and it was becoming less and less adequate for her with every passing minute she spent basking in the knowledge that he wanted her as she wanted him.  

“Kitten,” she murmured, feeling painfully shy to ask for what she wanted. But after that candid speech that left her more open than she was used to, Emilia supposed there was nothing more she could not say to him, “I _really_ want to kiss you now…” she stole a glance up at him, “may I-“

She never heard his reply as she met his bold, open-mouthed kiss with her own. He tasted sweeter than she remembered and she sighed happily against his lips. He abruptly inched back then, just enough to speak with his lips pillowed against hers, “ _fuck_ ,” he whispered eloquently. She felt his lips move against hers and her lips tenderly kissed his bottom lip instinctively. She registered what he said only a moment after.

“ _What_?” for the second time, she was utterly confused and slightly panicked. Her eyes flew open but neither of them pulled away even the slightest. It would be funny, how they were in such close proximity she couldn’t focus enough to see his eyes, if she wasn’t mildly frightened of what he seemed to recall.

“I missed the sunset again,” he groaned, pulling his lips from hers only to tuck his nose alongside hers and nuzzle her cheek with his.

She could not contain the breath of annoyance she huffed even as her heart leaped with joy at the feel of his bearded cheek against hers, “fuck the sunset,” she turned towards him, her eyes slipping shut as her lips eagerly sought his.

He laughed breathily, “fuck the sunset,” he agreed just before he pressed his lips to hers.

**Kit**

Her words were etched, deep, on his heart. And he knew he would remember them until his last breath.

In every one of those words he felt her love for him; so pure, so untainted despite everything.

Kit did not think there was another way to tell someone you love them but Emilia Clarke just did, for him. Only in so many words he wished he had written them down.

He told her that and she had giggled raucously. Feeling brazen, he pulled her to his side then.

Just so he could not only hear her giggles but feel them too.

“Say it all to me again,” Kit requested, his cheeks aching with how long and wide he smiled.

“No,” she had blatantly turned him down, in lesser words than he imagined possible.

He had pulled her to his side then as well.

So he would not float right off his feet from sheer giddying exhilaration for she was the only thing keeping him grounded.

Her hand slackened in his and Kit turned to her to see that she has begun to doze and nod off in the seat beside his for their flight to Spain. Quietly and careful not to wake her, Kit pushed up the armrest between them. Feeling his heart fill to the brim with adoration, he guided her to his side.

So she could snuggle into the spot at his side made just for her.

Kit pressed a kiss to the crown of her head and whispered into her hair, “thank you Milly, for coming back to me; no matter how far away you went,”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was a tough one to write. Hope it lives up to all your expectations! A big (happy) step forward for them! But this is not the end and more observant readers will notice Kit's other insecurity regarding Emilia is not yet resolved but one step at a time!  
> You guys are absolutely amazing and supportive in the previous chapter. I have read all your comments and they have really helped encourage and inspire me for this one (will go back to reply them all in a day or two). 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter and do leave me a comment to let me know what you liked (or disliked) about it!


	9. Wish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note: THIS CONTAINS SPOILERS. And show runners. And a brand new thirty year old. And Jon Snow's mum. #butnosneakypaps #vivalagameofthronesbirthdays #waitisthatchanningtatum?!  
> \- Emilia Clarke (Instagram, Oct 2016)
> 
> "She doesn’t feel the same way. You’re just a best friend to her…she’s been dating other men… why would she do that if she fancies you? She dated Seth, Cory and now Jai. I love you. I have loved you… for a while. And I told her and she told me to go for it. She encouraged me to make you see how I feel for you. She wanted us to be together…”
> 
> \- Rose Leslie (August 2014, The Second Verse, Chapter 14)
> 
> I am sick of watching you give him hope time and time again, that you might have some feelings for him; then you go off and fuck every other bloke you happen to work with! Do you know how much that hurts him?
> 
> \- Rose Leslie (August 2014, The Second Verse, Chapter 14)
> 
> As much as I would love to have you, I want to have all of myself to give to you too. So, Ms Clarke, will you wait for me?
> 
> \- Kit Harington (October 2016, The Last Verse, Chapter 8)

_23rd October 2016, Bilbao, Spain._

**Kit**

_I love her._

His gaze, for the umpteenth time despite his efforts to avert his eyes, found her again.

She looked a vision tonight and Kit still found himself in disbelief that she loved him back. Still. _Me. Of all the people in this world._

He studied her brunette hair that she had dyed a lighter shade of brown. He never understood her need to change her hair colour; he always thought her natural shade brought out her beauty best. Even from a distance, he knew how her hair smelled like; he had spent the night before with his nose against her warm scalp as they both drifted off to sleep. He loved the way the tips of her hair brushed her bare shoulders as she moved. She wore a deep blue halter neck top that bared her shoulders and all of her back. Kit gazed at the smooth alabaster skin she bared, knowing the spots at which he would see small brown moles, if only he was closer.

Her giggle pierced through the fog of his admiration of her and he glanced around the table; eager to be a part of what made her so happy. Beside her, sat Nathalie and Conleth. Kit wished he sat where they sat but a part of him liked sitting across from her. He could at least look at her since he couldn’t touch her now. He could see the way her grin stretched her face, crinkling her eyes and deepening the laugh lines along her nose. It seemed Conleth had just told a joke. Those never fail to amuse her. And Kit smiled along.

It was then their gaze met. And stayed.

_She loves me._

He could see it in the way her gaze softened as they fell onto him, in the way her deep red lips curved into a coy smile that she tried in vain to hide, in the way her cheeks redden just so when he smiled back at her.

“Were you surprised, Emilia?” Nathalie asked her and Emilia tore her gaze from him to beam at Nathalie.

“More like appalled,” Emilia smiled, “Spongebob, and Dora the Explorer, really David and Dan?” she raised a brow at them, “in the middle of Game of Thrones?”

David shrugged, “could be Jon Snow’s mum,”

Emilia giggled and Kit thought the place seemed brighter, “I’m turning 30 for fuck’s sake, not 3,”

It’s her birthday today. But as far as Kit was concerned, he would celebrate her for as long as she would allow.

When Kit approached David and Dan to ask if they had anything planned, they told him of their plan to surprise her with the two mascots they rented for her birthday. Kit had told them then that he had booked a huge table at a restaurant at a museum with a 14 course meal and accompanying wine. And he went ahead to invite them and the cast; those who were present in Spain for filming and whom she was close to. The only thing she enjoyed more than visiting museums in the cities she visited, was to enjoy a good meal with friends, and alcohol.

Back in Belfast, Kit told himself he would make her the happiest woman on this Earth as she turned thirty this year. And he fully intended to live up to that promise. This one was the first of his birthday presents to her. _Well, second, if I counted Cavehill but she pretty much stole that moment as a present from her to me._

Kit’s chest swelled at the memory of it. In that wonderful moment, she was honest, she was open, she was lovely. It was the moment she became his once more. But he had told her to wait. Because as much as he wanted her, he wanted something more than that; he wanted to be hers, unquestionably, and completely.

As the first course was served, Kit’s gaze once again fell to Emilia. She watched the servers place exquisite dishes on their plate with wonder, smiling and thanking her server sweetly before she gaped down at the plate. And Kit watched her, equally in awe of her as she was of the food.

When she looked up at him, her face contorted in such sheer distress that she looked to be on the verge of tears, and Kit was completely baffled. She whined then, “I’m gonna starve,” everyone looked to her, most looked as puzzled as Kit felt, “this looks too beautiful to eat,”  

Around the table, they laughed, “I agree,” Nathalie turned to her and Emilia smiled at her friend, squeezing her hand.

The sommelier approached then and did a short introduction of the wine he recommended to go with the dish. Emilia’s eyes lit up like Christmas morning at the sight of the alcohol and Kit knew he would do anything to keep her happy like this. As the dinner went on, Kit could not keep his gaze from Emilia. He wanted to witness the curve and crinkle of her eyes, every smile that crossed her lips and the sound of her giggle; the only thank he would ever need from her.  

As they were almost finished with their fourteenth and last course of the evening, Kit turned to the manager. Catching his eye, Kit nodded and he watched him head into the kitchen. It wasn’t a moment later when the manager left the kitchen, wheeling a trolley with a cake and a lighted candle on it. Behind him, his staff followed.

“Happy birthday to you,”

Kit sang with the restaurant staff. Emilia looked up and blinked in surprise. She giggled loudly when she noticed the approaching cake. The rest of the cast and David and Dan chorused along and it didn’t take much for a blush to colour her cheeks. The birthday cake was placed before her as the song came to an end. Emilia’s eyes were watery as she tore her gaze from around the table. She took one look at the cake and laughed, “that’s the cake from yesterday!” she looked to him, looking thoroughly scandalized.

Kit shrugged, unable to contain his smile, “had to make sure you’ll like it,” he had bought a slice of it to work yesterday, pretending it was a snack. She had tried a bite when he offered it to her and told him she liked it.

Emilia grinned so widely then that Kit could barely see her eyes and his heart fluttered at the wonderful sight.

“Alright, make a wish!” Jacob said. Emilia nodded and she clasped her hand together to make a wish. He admired the way the candlelight casted shadows across her features, wondering what she was wishing for. When her eyes opened, they connected with his in the first instant. Her eyes looked green in the candlelight. She pursed a lips against a smile before she blew out the candle to the cheers and applause of their friends.

“Thank you guys,” she was evidently fighting back tears.

“Oh you don’t have to thank us,” Liam began, turning to Kit but Kit nudged his knee under the table with his own and Liam raised a brow. Emilia glanced to him but before she could ask, the manager approached their table.

“Is it alright if we took a picture with all of you?” the manager asked and Kit frowned. Emilia had politely rejected the request to take her photo at the museum visit earlier and the last thing Kit wanted now was for this request to ruin her evening, “quite a few of us are massive fans of your show,” 

However when Kit turned to Emilia, he saw her grinning at the manager, “sure,” Emilia smiled before she turned to Kit. He realised after a beat that she was asking to see if he minded a photo. He wanted to smile to reassure her that he was completely fine with it but he was already smiling. He nodded in agreement for the photo along with the rest of the cast around the table. They stood from their seats and his feet automatically brought him to her.

“Happy birthday,” he said softly, his hand unwittingly finding her skin again. In his mind, it had felt much too long since he last felt her skin against his own. He eagerly took in the warmth and the sensation of the soft skin on her back.

She turned to him, “thank you,” her eyes glanced to his lips but she merely smiled before she turned towards the camera. Kit instinctually leaned into her till his shoulder pressed gently into her back. He pursed his lips against an unwitting smile when he felt her lean back into him just so. His gaze fell to her bare shoulder and Kit fought the urge to drop a kiss over the small brown mole he spotted.

She shifted to look at him, her intention obvious and Kit could only smile at her, “don’t worry, I’m smiling. It’s your birthday,”

She sang, “best birthday ever then,” she turned back to look to the camera. He glanced to see her smiling so wide her eyes were barely visible. The camera man called for their attention and Kit hurriedly shifted his eyes away from her.  

The photos were taken before they settled back at their table to each have a slice of the cake. Then Emilia turned and dug into her bag. Predictably, she drew out her card pouch and beckoned to the waitress before he could stop her. Kit doubted he would be able to anyway.

He could not hear what she said to the waitress but he heard her reply, “oh it’s already been paid for ma’am,” Emilia raised a brow, frowning but forced a smile to thank the waitress nonetheless. Kit smiled, relieved he had thought to pay first. As she tucked her card pouch into her bag, she was still visibly puzzled. Beside her, Nathalie seemed to notice her distress and asked her, too softly for Kit to hear, but he saw the way Emilia merely smiled and shook her head dismissively.

Then he glimpsed her gaze shifting towards him and he hurriedly turned to Liam and Conleth, joining their conversation and pretending to be as oblivious to what just he just witnessed.

* * *

 

“Did you pay for dinner?”

Kit pursed his lips, trying to keep up a poker face. Then he felt her hand on his. He blinked in surprise as his gaze fell to their now interlinked hands. Since Cavehill, they have stolen coy looks, light brushes and if either one of them dared, a quick kiss. Not once did they touch with such ease and Kit was taken aback with how casual, and normal, holding her hand felt.

They have just bid goodnight to Nathalie and they were the only ones left in the lift. Nathalie has casted both of them a knowing look and a smile but did not comment when Kit, whose room was on the same floor as her, did not exit the lift with her.

Her pale hand was just a shade lighter than his and yet, Kit marvelled at how her hand fit snugly in the palm of his hand. Her hand looked like it belonged in his, “is this okay?” she asked him quietly, her voice husky. His surprise ebbed away and his hesitant fingers squeezed her hand gently, wondering the same thing she had just asked him. Her small hand nicely warmed up his own cold one and Kit revelled in the feel of her; the weight of it, the curves and ridges of her knuckles, the softness of her skin, the comforting warmth in her palm.

“I don’t know,” Kit replied, equally softly, “but this feels right,” his heart swelled as he looked upon her lovely face. He watched a smile soften her face and Kit wanted to kiss her. _But not yet. Not here._

He instead focussed on their interlinked hands, brushing his thumb across the back of her hand, “so… did you pay for dinner?” Emilia was persistent.

Kit chuckled, his chin tucked to his chest as he studied her reddening fingers. The lift doors opened and averting her gaze, he walked with her towards her room. He glanced to her to see her narrowing her eyes at him as they came to her door. He looked at her, obstinately not giving her an answer.

Eventually, she sighed, digging for her room card with her free hand. A thrill ran through Kit when he realised, not once did she try to pry her hand from his. She held him as he held her.

The door beeped open and Emilia made to push the door open but Kit beat her to it. Holding it open, he let her walk in before him. A small smile graced her lips. _Always a sucker for something gentlemanly._ Kit mused as he followed her into the room, quite literally on her heel. He bumped into her playfully in the back with his chest. She stumbled forward, giggling but before she could go out of his reach, yanked her back to him by her hand in his.

She giggled loudly as she fell into him, her back against his chest. Chuckling at the sound of her giggle, Kit encircled her waist with his arms, cradling her gently but firmly against his chest. Her petite stature allowed him to almost completely envelop her with his own body, despite his own less than adequate stature.

“Happy birthday,” he whispered before he kissed the shell of her ear. Then he caught a breath of her scent, previously masked by her perfume. It was so very familiar and his heart expanded, more than he thought was possible. Craning his neck to catch even a glimpse of her sweet face, an intense need to protect her came over him and Kit could do nothing against it but tighten his arms around her lest she felt him trembling from it.

Oblivious to the chaos of emotions she had just evoked in him, she complained, “stop saying it,” despite her complain, he glimpsed the edges of her moist lips turn up. Filled to the brim with ardor, he nibbled on her ear as her body trembled against his, trying to hold in her giggles.

 _You should always be smiling. Few things suit you like a smile does._ Kit thought. “Why?” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple.

She shied away, “I’m getting old,” she whined.

He almost scoffed at the absurdity of that statement but was momentarily distracted by a glimpse of the supple skin of her neck. He nudged her with his forehead and was allowed access to her slender neck, “are you?” he replied absently as he pressed a firm kiss to her pulse point.

He heard a sharp inhale from her, “thirty now…” he sucked gently and her voice caught, “ _fucking hell_ ,” she was getting breathless and Kit smiled against her skin.

“What a filthy mouth,” Kit whispered, littering kisses across her skin on his way to said, now parted, mouth. He found her panting. Her petite body started squirming, arching back into him so her shapely bottom grinded against the front of his jeans. He grunted, his body coiling with desire for her, fuelled by the alarming amounts of adoration he felt for her. He gazed at her. Her eyes were closed, lips parted, almost every inch of her body pressed up against him.

“You love it,” the words escaped her along with a long sigh. His heart sang at the sound of her velvet voice. _I would give everything for you; to you._ He thought, almost a realisation.

“I love you,” he blurted. However, the moment the words left his lips, Kit felt an unexplainable, strangling fear bloom in his chest. His throat constricted, but as did his arms around her. Her eyes flew open when she heard him and Kit suddenly wished he could take the words back. He wanted to hide from her and never leave her side at the same time; it was terribly confusing.

He stared as her blue-gold eyes looked forward vacantly before they slowly but surely well up with tears. A soft breath left her parted lips and her gaze met his, “I love you too,” she croaked weakly but her lips curved into a sweet smile. Kit let out a breath, hoping it would ease the stifling fear but it did not.

A frown marred her softened features then and Kit hated himself for robbing her of her smile, “what’s wrong?” she turned in his arms and he let her. But he would not let her go; not until she wants to leave. _But, she would never. Would she? Not again._ Her hand came up to cup his bearded cheek and despite how he felt, he was helpless against melting completely into her soft, warm palm. His eyes slipped shut and his nerves tingled desperately yearning for more of her touch. “Kitten,” she whispered.

He opened his eyes to see her concerned, wet eyes, “it’s nothing important,” he replied. He hated that he worried her and ruined her birthday with his problems.

She shook her head, a bitter chuckle leaving her, “ _you_ are important to me,” her thumb brushed over his beard gently, “whatever you’re thinking, whatever is bothering you is important to me,”

Her words coaxed a smile from him, albeit a small one, “not more important than your birthday,” he croaked.

Her other hand caressed his arm, which was holding her to him, “My birthday… I already have what I want for my birthday, more than what I could even dare to wish for,” her gaze fixed on him meaningfully and Kit wanted to sink into the comfort only she could provide him and properly cry. Instead, he nuzzled her hand.

“That’s it?” Kit brushed his fingertips across her bare back, “such a small present for such a significant birthday?” he teased.

Emilia rolled her eyes and scowled, “do _not_ remind me of my age,”

“Why?” he mused.

Her cheeks turned pink. She averted his gaze and her hand fell from his cheek to rest on his chest. She began playing with the fine hairs on his chest that was visible over the top of the unbuttoned shirt. But that only evoke Kit’s curiosity more so he nudged her to look at him with his forehead against hers. She chuckled and relented to meet his eye, “you’re 29…” she had said it so softly Kit almost didn’t hear her.

 _I’m-_ Kit paused, genuinely taken aback with her reply. _For two more fucking months…_ He laughed, loudly. He felt slightly guilty when her cheeks bloomed an even brighter pink but his amusement won over. He was helpless against the mirth that bubbled from deep within his belly. Emilia’s indignant pout only made it all the more amusing to him. She glared at her hands on his chest. Kit only laughed harder. _The ridiculous things this little, precious person worries about._

She glared at him. Then he felt a soft pinch of his left nipple through his shirt that he felt straight in his balls and sparked tingles up his thighs. Surprised, he yelped, backing away from her.

His amusement was instantly quelled. He stared at her, incredulous, “that’s…” _nice_ , “ticklish,” he said with finality.  

Emilia howled with laughter then. Her cheeks bunched up, her eyes completely hidden behind them, her lips pulled up into a wide grin. _Gods, she is beautiful_. Enamoured and simply wanting to hug her to him but afraid she’d pinch him again, Kit stood there, at lost, “come here,” Emilia giggled, holding her arms wide open.

“No,” Kit eyed her cautiously but Emilia approached nonetheless, and Kit could not bring himself to back away from her. She came to him and shot him a shy smile before she cuddled up against his broad chest once more. His arms automatically wrapped around her, pulling her closer.

“Do you hate it?” she asked, looking curious.

Kit pondered on it for a moment, recalling the jolt he felt in his balls and tingling in his thighs, “it’s… ticklish,” he repeated, “but, no,” he said cautiously, “I don’t hate it,” a small smile crossed her lips and Kit narrowed his eyes suspiciously at her, “what?”

“Nothing,” she replied, “so…I told you what was bothering me…”

Her eyes darted down in embarrassment when his lips twitched into an amused smile, “2 fucking months are what bothered you,” Kit grinned.

Emilia rolled her eyes, “piss off and tell me what is bothering _you_ ,”

He gazed down at her. Despite the twinkle of playfulness in her eyes from their banter, her eyes held utter concern, for him and Kit don’t remember ever feeling safer than he did in this moment; safe enough to tell her. “will you-“ he hesitated, “you said you love me…”

“I do,” her hand caressed over his chest, neck and cupped his bearded cheek, “very much,” she confirmed. Her blue-gold eyes were soft, almost liquid, as they gazed up at him and Kit could not find it in himself to question the sincerity of her words.

He leaned into her hand, “and I love you,” he smiled and she mirrored it, “but it was as it is now… and you left anyway…” his voice cracked and his gaze fell. He could remember how it felt when he watched her leave him, in Iceland in his hotel room. Eerily, not unlike every hotel he had stayed at. Not unlike this very hotel. She was firm, decisive and hard-hearted. Kit remembered thinking he barely recognised the woman who just left, “you didn’t even look back-“ he blinked when tears clouded his vision and Kit let them fall. He remembered how helpless he was, powerless to change her mind even if she claimed to love him as she claims now, “I-I’m scared Milly,”

Her hand froze on his cheek.

It was not a moment later before he felt her arms around his neck, tugging him to her. He went, only too happily. Burying his face into the crook of her neck, he wept silent tears. All the while, her hand stroked the nape of his neck and the other hand combed into his hair tenderly. Kit hadn’t even realised when she undid the tie on his hair. She didn’t speak but her touch did so on her behalf, louder than words could in that moment. Kit took in the warm scent of her skin as for the first time in a while, he allowed himself to shed tears for that moment in the past that still felt incredibly raw on his heart.

He felt her shift her head beside his before he felt her soft lips on his cheek, “I’m sorry for what I did. I’m sorry I made you afraid to love me,” she told him, her tone soft, her warm breath tickling his cheek, “I want to promise you that I won’t leave you,” he furrowed his brows against the deep ache her words evoked, “not ever again. But I know how that sounds when I have done it before,” she whispered, pressing another kiss onto his ear, “all I can do now, is prove it to you,” she said thickly and it was clear as day to Kit that she was crying too.

He withdrew and true enough, tear streaks marred her pink cheeks. He reluctantly drew his arms from around her and wiped at her tears hastily, “no, I-I just…I- don’t cry, Milly,” he pleaded.

Emilia chuckled, “ _you_ don’t cry,” she reached up and wiped away his tears, inciting a chuckle from him, “give me time, Kitten. And I’ll prove to you that you have nothing to be afraid of,” Kit looked into her eyes then and he saw utter adoration, “you can’t rid of me,” she wrapped her arms firmly around his neck and grinned cheekily, “even if you want to. Even if you try to. You’re stuck with me,” his heart lifted and Kit felt lighter as she grew playful but that did little to dim the resoluteness of her words.

He gazed softly at her cheeky grin, _you are lovely, Milly,_ “sounds agonising,” he teased.

She mocked a scowl but that did little to conceal the smile, “fuck you, Kitten,” Kit laughed at her candour, “now tell me, did you pay for dinner, or didn’t you?” she demanded.

Kit raised a brow, “that’s not how this works,” she shot him a puzzled look, “I just told you something. Now you have to tell me something that I don’t know if you want your answer,”

Emilia laughed as she rolled her eyes, “you are ridiculous,” Kit grinned, pleased he made her laugh. A moment later, she pondered, absently chewing her lower lip and Kit found himself transfixed by the way she worried the moist, plump flesh. He wondered what lovely sounds she would make if he was the one worrying her lip between his teeth, if he were to sneak a taste of her lip, her mouth and her tongue- “you enjoy being difficult, don’t you?” she shot back.

Kit shrugged, a picture of nonchalance. He knew it would grate on her nerves and he watched, satisfied as she rolled her eyes again, exasperated. Then, her eyes fell to the side and paused. A small smile crossed her lips before she met his eye, “I almost forgot…” she unwounded her firm hold on his neck and for a moment, Kit felt a flutter of panic. But she didn’t push him away or leave his arms. In fact, she leaned closer as she brought her hand between them, palm down.

Kit gazed across her hand, looking for what she was trying to show him, “I don’t see-“ that was when Kit noticed a faded, white mark around her pinky finger. He frowned, confused he hadn’t noticed it before. He reluctantly removed an arm from around her to hold her pinky to get a closer look. To compensate, he tightened his arm around her waist, grounding her firmer to him as if she would run.

She giggled and the sound made his heart sing, “clingy,” she muttered, chiding him but Kit thought she could not look or sound happier and more contented than exactly where she was; crushed against him so much so they might as well be one.

“Is that a tattoo? Of a ring?” Kit asked, scrutinising it. It looked like a ring but Kit could not be sure for he did not recognise the pattern of it-

She nodded, “a true love’s knot,” Emilia told him softly, “I got it in Spain, 2 years ago,” she met his eye meaningfully. Kit remembered that night vividly; it was the night he felt alive for the first time in over two years. They had kissed and made love all through the night. Kit felt like himself and she felt a mere extension of him and Kit recalled thinking he never wanted to be apart from her again. He never wanted that night to end for he had felt whole, complete, when they joined, again and again, “by then, even before you arrived, I knew no matter how fucking hard I tried, I could not truly separate myself from you. You are my every fucking thought… even when I sleep, I would dream of you…” she chuckled weakly, “it was maddening,”

 _If you’d known what I dreamed of._ Kit stared at her. _We were fools, all this time._

“My life will always be intertwined with yours, Kitten. No matter what I do. So…” her gaze fell to the ring on her finger and Kit followed her gaze. He traced the pattern of a slender white thread and watched it intertwine around another thread. Kit could not see where one began or where the other one ended. Two separate entities that were now parts of a whole. It was then it occurred to Kit that this was not unlike how they currently stood against the other.

His throat was lodged to the brim then with all sorts of emotions but two stood glaringly evident; relief and love. Overwhelmed with them, Kit could not stem the tremor in his hand as he brought her hand up to press a kiss to the ring, “why on the pinky?” Kit mused softly against her skin.

“It’s a promise…” her voice sounded so small Kit strained to hear what she was saying, “to love you, properly,” she chuckled then, “since I couldn’t forget you, I might as well try to do one thing well,”

Kit was aghast. _She has done so even while I- we weren’t together. When she doesn’t know I hold her in my every waking thought and dream. When she thought I have moved on with another woman. When she thought I love another more than I love her._

The thought of the amounts of pain she inflicted on herself by giving herself this tattoo wrenched at his heart. The thought of the pain she must have been feeling, such that getting the tattoo made it better for her, threaten to bring him to his knees. He had ran away at the first taste of such a pain and fell into bed with the wrong woman.

He gazed at her in awe, “why?” Kit whispered, “why the fuck are you so stupid?” he hissed, swapping her hand for her cheek. His tender caress soothed the sting of his harsh words.

She smiled, “because you deserve to be loved,” she said it like it was the simplest thing in the world.

 _No. I am a coward. I don’t deserve love, especially yours._ Tears spilled, unbidden, over his cheeks and Kit shook his head, “no, I don’t,” _I’m a terrible person. I’m not good enough, least of all for you. My lovely, perfect Milly,_ “I really don’t. You love me so much and I-“

“You do,” Emilia told him firmly, “you do,” she cradled his face between her hands, “you do,” with her hands, she held his head levelled so he couldn’t rest his chin on his chest to hide his embarrassing tears, “you know why?” he shook his head. He could not speak coherently now if he tried. His body was trembling from the sheer weight of the love he had just realised she had showered upon him; had been showering upon him, “because no one loves me like you do. And because I love you,”

Kit knitted his brows, trying to comprehend what she just said, “I don’t think that’s how it works,” a wet chuckle left him, “and I didn’t love you very well,”

Emilia frowned, shaking her head, “you did. You do,” she leaned in. Drawn to her, Kit met her halfway. Kit could taste his own salty tears and discharge from his runny nose and he knew she could too. Just as he was about to pull away and declare himself too disgusting a mess to be kissing such a beautiful, lovely woman, she bunched the collar of his shirt in a fist and held him against her, “ _oh Kitten_ ,” she whispered. She kissed him so tenderly then that Kit might begin to believe he deserves her.

He felt her tongue brush probingly against his lips and he parted them without a second thought. She pushed against him as she deepened the kiss. She teased the tip of his tongue with her own and Kit groaned and sought her out. Blood rushed into his ears, just barely drowning out the sound of his heavy breathing. His hands found her small waist and he pulled her closer so her breasts were firmly pressed to him. A small gasp escaped her and Kit grinned in triumph.

That is, until she took his bottom lip between hers and nipped it, tugging it towards her. He groaned, leaning closer, seeking her tongue with his but he met her closed, moist lips instead. _Tease._ He could feel her fingers in his hair, holding him to her, and her other hand exploring his chest.

Her touch was tender but definite and Kit grew confident from how sure her touch felt on him. Her palm paused over his heart and before he knew it, he felt her fingertip gently brush his nipple through the shirt. He felt tingles run up his thighs and settle in his balls. The unexpectedness of it had him moaning softly and it encouraged her ministration. Her soft brushes became light tugs and pinches all while her tongue teased his and her lips kissed him with bruising intensity and passion.

Kit didn’t think he could get so hard so quickly.

He groaned when her hand slid south across his abdomen. His own hands fell from her waist and Kit revelled in the feel her shapely arse in his palm. He kneaded her tentatively. A soft, blissful sigh left her lips, “don’t wrinkle my pants,” she whispered haltingly between a kiss and Kit stilled for a moment.

When his sluggish mind registered what she had said, he barked a laugh and blurted harshly, “so fucking take it off,”

She froze entirely. Her hand low on his abdomen, agonisingly close to where he wanted her touch, her other hand on the nape of his neck, her lips on the corner of his. Slowly, she withdrew from him to look at him. Regret ran deep for what he has said when her eyes darted between his searchingly, almost seeking permission.

He had told her to wait and she has been, patiently; even if she hasn’t been the most well-behaved. It was unavoidable for moments such as these to overwhelm them considering Kit spent more time in her room than his own since they started season 7. And it was plain she wanted him for more than just a body pillow; in the way she looked at him, the way she touched him constantly and so very tenderly, the way she whispered his name when they kissed. But they have always practised restrain.

Both of them had been mindful of their limits. Until now.

Kit gazed down at her face; her small slim nose, blushing cheeks, swollen, parted lips. _Her eyes._ His mouth dried when in those wide, wanting depths, Kit saw the sunrise. His own sunrise; the one he wants to wake up to every morning, the one that told him everything will be alright when things get difficult. There was no one else he desired more than her but he will not stoop lower than he already did. He will not allow himself to be a man even less deserving of her love than he already felt he is. Helpless, he brushed aside a stray lock of hair before gently combing his fingers into her hair, feeling the warmth of her scalp. He knew she could feel his hardness between them and he ached to delve into the moist heat between her legs. But he couldn’t. _Not yet._

He supposed she must have seen the regret and helplessness in his eyes for she stopped searching his face and instead, smiled weakly. She laced her arm around his waist and fisted his shirt at the small of his back. He swallowed a groan at the memories that simple gesture brought back to him.

“I want you,” she whispered needlessly, evoking a reacting twitch in his jeans. Her eyes fell and she leaned her head to his collarbone. He heard her take a deep breath of him and felt the way her entire body rose with that single breath. She pressed herself closer to him, sandwiching his hard length between them and began to grind herself against him tantalisingly. She moved along his length and his aching balls tightened, feeling heavier with each moment. The sensation was electrifying, sending starburst into his vision and Kit groaned haltingly.

“Is that your birthday wish?” he panted. _Say yes and I will make love to you right now._ Kit pleaded. Every inch of his body poised to pick her up where she stood and bury himself into her.

She withdrew from her spot against his collarbone and looked into his eyes, “I love you,” she whispered and his heart swelled. No matter how many thousand times Emilia said it, Kit doubted he would ever tire of hearing it. Those words, her voice and her tender tone ignited something in him that Kit felt would never be extinguished for as long as he lived, “you know I would never do that to you,”

His stomach sank with disappointment and Kit leaned closer, begging her, with insistent kisses to her neck, to verbalise what she wants, “do what?” he whispered.

Her sharp intake of breath told Kit that his grovelling was working but Emilia whispered to the ceiling, “guilt you into giving me what I want,” _not guilt; desire,_ “using my birthday,”

Kit drew back to look at her, “not just what _you_ want,” he fixed a gaze on her, ignoring the frustrating curl of hair that fell into his eyes.

She smiled a small smile as she tucked the curl behind his ear, “I know. But… I don’t want you to regret it. You did tell me to wait for you…” she said gently.

Kit swallowed as memories of that happy moment now lodge itself in his throat. He had told her he wanted to have all of himself to give to her and asked for her to wait till then. He had said it wanting to continue building their love on a fresh, clean sheet and make pure, unadulterated memories with her. He did not want to taint those precious moments with betrayal, cheating, guilt, or any suffering he deemed avoidable and unnecessary in the background. That was the least he could give her, apart from his far-from-perfect self. That idea had sounded perfect to Kit then.

But now, his raging erection obstinately pushed against the confines of his denim jeans, desperately wanting to be that much closer to the person he desired. The urge to forgo that promise was overwhelming.

He frowned, almost in literal agony, “this… is painful,” he whimpered as he made his decision. With herculean effort, Kit tore his arms from around her.

“Drama kid,” she rolled her eyes before she leaned back an inch and glanced down. Kit clenched his jaw against the throb in his jeans before he followed her gaze. He knew she would be able to see his desire for her plainly through his skin tight jeans but that wasn’t what caught his eye.

He gazed down at her small navy halter-neck top and eyed the shape of her breasts, weighing on the fabric. Realisation dawned upon him and Kit moaned, taking two steps back hastily.  

“What’s wrong?” Emilia raised a brow, amused at his moaning. She reached for him but Kit took another step back.

“You’re not wearing a bra,” he lamented thickly.

Peals of laughter filled the room and Kit glared at her but could not keep his gaze from her chest for long. He traced the side and underside curve of her bosoms before he noticed two telling, hard peaks on the fabric. Kit growled in frustration before digging his knuckles into his eyes.

“What? Are you trying to gorge your eyes out?” she asked between giggles and from merely her tone, Kit could tell she was bent on teasing him.

“Why the fuck not?” he grunted, refusing to remove his hands.

“You’re going to cum in your jeans if you don’t take it off,” she pointed out before giggling. Her crude words send a tingle down his spine and he felt the already-present tension tighten in his groin.

_I just might if you keep talking-_

“Or I can suck you off,”

Instantly, his head filled with a vivid image of her on her knees, her large almond shaped eyes gazing up at him, her plump lips around his cock, her blushing cheeks hollowed, her fingers moving meaningfully between her legs, her other free hand tweaking her perked nipple. The base of his length tingled and to his dismay, Kit felt moisture bloom in his jeans. He grunted, “bloody hell,” he clenched his teeth against spilling his load in his jeans like she predicted, “fuck your filthy mouth,” he groaned as he just barely managed.

“I’d let you,” she replied before she burst into laughter, “that _is_ the general idea of a blowjob-”

Kit growled and plugged his ears with his fingers, his eyes remaining tightly shut. It was finally silent, and pitched black but Kit was left to his thoughts; imagery and memories – that was a much darker place after spending more than two years there.

He risked opening his eyes then to see that she was now in merely her knickers and that _fucking_ halter top. He noticed she stood further than when he last saw her. His eyes widened as they fell and he stared. She had a hand down the front of her knickers, her hips gyrating slowly, “Clarke,” he hissed. Her eyes were trained intently on his groin and she breathed audibly through her parted lips. Spellbound, he watched her pleasure herself till her body was pulled taut, her head lolling back. Fingers relentless in her knickers, her other hand came up to knead her breast, not unlike in the image his mind concocted.

A soft moan.

A whisper carried itself across the room to his ears. _Kitten._

He hadn’t realise he was touching himself through his jeans and his hips was moving fruitlessly, seeking friction in the confines of his pants, until he felt his aching balls grow incredibly tight, his length swelled before the tension snapped. His eyes slipped shut as he felt the intensely pleasurable surge. He grunted, trying to swallow a deep groan. With blood still roaring his ears and the last of his release leaking from him to more thoroughly soil his pants, he heard a prolonged guttural moan from her.

He pried his eyes open to see her sink to the ground, barely catching herself. Kit chuckled breathlessly as he made his way over to her on shaky knees. He sat down cross-legged beside her. Hesitantly, he took her in his arms and tugged and carried her into his lap. Her bottom fitted between his legs, her trembling legs perched over his thigh. He gazed down at her, almost, pained expression as her head lolled onto his shoulder. He then glimpsed her glistening, trembling fingers.

An impulse came over Kit. Almost a man possessed, Kit encircled her wrist and brought her hand to his mouth. Without a moment’s hesitation, he took her fingers into his mouth. The scent of her was heady. The musky taste of her pleasure that coated her finger was intoxicating on his tongue, and Kit was dumbstruck to feel himself begin to get stiff in his soiled jeans again.

“Kitten,” she whispered. He glanced to her to see her staring at him, looking utterly speechless.

His cheeks flushed and he chuckled, suddenly self-conscious of how he must look to her; frenzied, desperate, maybe crazed. He released her, cleaned, fingers from his mouth, “your filthy mouth would be the death of me one day,”

Emilia’s weak giggle rewarded his ears, “why? You’re going to die of a heart attack as an old man when I mention sucking you off?”

Kit laughed, “that’s one thing to aspire towards,” he grinned and leaned closer, pressing his temple to her forehead, “although, you already sucking me off would be highly preferred,”

“Your cum would be halfway to my arse by now if you took off your jeans when I suggested for you to,” Emilia rebuked. He choked on nothing and Emilia laughed, “now you’ve gone and soiled your pants, haven’t you?” before he could squirm away, which was unlikely with her in his lap, her hand fell to his groin. She gave him a pleasurable squeeze to feel his still semi-hard length, “someone’s still excited,”

“Milly,” he sighed, trying and failing to purse his lips against an amused smile, “I want you. I have wanted you ever since I first had you,” she blinked, “and I have never stopped. Not once, not for more than a day,” he cradled her sweet face in his large hands, marvelling at the extraordinary colours in her wide almond shaped eyes, “what we have now, and had before, is so precious; so pure. I know you’ll probably laugh at me but-“ she was listening quietly and Kit pressed a chaste kiss to her lips before he continued, “I want what we have to be pure, good and untainted; even if I am not,” her lips parted and Kit could see every inch of her was ready to argue that point so he stopped her with a kiss.

“Kitten-“ she protested.

He slipped his tongue into her mouth, brushing her gently. She relaxed and Kit kissed her once more before he pulled away, “I know I am getting better… fuck, I was so busy looking at you I didn’t even think to ask for another glass of wine…” he chuckled when her cheeks reddened, “while I am getting better, and while I settle things with Rose once and for all,” he felt her tense in his arms and he only held her firmer, “I want to keep what we have _good_ , without a doubt,” she smiled and Kit knew he had her agreement then, “I won’t let you be the third party in this. Not when you have always been the first. Not after you promised to give yourself to me like that,” he felt his cheek warm at the memory of her words.

“I trust you,” she whispered.

Kit smiled, one so wide it split his face, “thank you,” he nuzzled her face with his cheek before tickling her nose with his beard. She giggled but did not shy away, “I’ve already texted Rose to arrange to meet as soon as possible, to talk,” Kit wanted to lay it out clearly to Rose and end the farce they have been living for a while. While he had no doubt Rose loved him and he loved her, even now, Kit knew their relationship was doomed to fail. _How could it not when I don’t have any of my heart left to give to Rose to begin with, even when she only wanted so little?_

“What did she say?” Emilia asked, interrupting the rising guilt he was beginning to feel that she probably detected.

“She didn’t reply,” Kit muttered, “I think a part of her knows,” he smiled weakly to her but Emilia looked too pensive for Kit’s liking so he continued, “we both knew it wouldn’t work… how could it, when I am in love with my best friend?” she tensed, “I never stopped, I couldn’t,”

She stared at him, “why didn’t you tell me?” she whispered.

“I didn’t dare… to risk our friendship, to risk spoiling the chance to even have a nights-out with you,” Kit frowned.

“But I have always loved you…I thought you finally wanted to move on, with Rose. So I-“

“Who told you that?” Kit demanded.

“I-I saw you with Rose,” she looked utterly confused.

“We were just friends… until… I saw you with Seth and… found out you pushed Rose to me,” he could not keep the hurt out of his voice.

“Kitten,” she cupped his cheek, “Rose loved you, better than I love you…” she sank lower, “and you chose her at that time,”

“You love me well enough,” he shot back, “and I didn’t know I could choose you…”

“That’s what my mum said,” Emilia rolled her eyes and Kit silently muttered a thank you to the assertive Jenny Clarke, “wait, how did you know I asked Rose to tell you how she felt?”

Kit raised a brow, “she told me,” he froze when the memory of that night came back to him, “Rose… she-“ he paused, “she told me you didn’t love me because you love the other blokes… and because you wanted her with me… so I resigned myself to keeping you as a best mate… I stopped trying to make you see how much I love you after,” Kit felt his hands and feet begin to chill.

“Rose told me I was leading you on, and hurting you… so I thought I should leave you alone, as much as I can,” she said, her voice thick and Kit knew that conversation had hurt her.

“Is that why you were gone from my life, for so long; why you hid from me during Dr Faustus,” his voice cracked as he recalled the nights he spent staring at the wall of their private messages, filled with unanswered messages from him to her.

She nodded mutely, staring at the knot tattoo on her pinky, “that, and I can’t bear watching you love her for another minute or bear watching you get upset after having another row with her over our past,”

 _Rose Leslie._ She has said things to both of them that the other was unaware of and she drove them further from each other, with her words as much as her presence. _And I am a fool through it all_. Kit felt a solid, almost palpable mass of rage move from his belly to his chest. He hadn’t realise he had fisted his hand until she covered his hand with her small one.

“I’m going to break it off with her, Milly,” he swore. Gently, he took her right hand in his, pressing a kiss to the ring tattoo. He let his lips linger and he thought he could feel the slight ridge of her tattoo. The thought of its significance was incredibly calming to him. She was the only thing stopping him from reaching for a stick of cigarette, going downstairs for a drink or even crying himself hoarse.

She nodded, smiling sadly, “she loves you,”

“And I love you,” he replied, “and you love me,” her eyes moistened, “so where does that leave us?”

Emilia’s giggle was as surprising as it was uplifting, “right here,” she teased. Kit chuckled, finding himself wholly agreeing with her assessment. She leaned into him and with her head on his chest, a peaceful albeit solemn moment blanketed them. Kit revelled in the feel of her in his lap, “I wish…” she whispered, “we wouldn’t hurt Rose,”

His heart wrenched for her, _my sweet Milly,_ as much as for Rose; the girl who loved him so much she had him even if his heart was never hers.

“I wish we didn’t lose all that time,” her voice wavered.

Kit fought his tears, knowing he had shed one too many tears this night. He nuzzled his cheek into the top of her head instead. When that felt hardly sufficient, Kit nudged her head back so he could see her.

Her eyes were wet. He smiled weakly and leaned down to kiss her. She whispered against his lips, “I wish we would never be apart like that again,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I stuck with a huge writer's block and then got carried away. This chapter is supposed to incorporate the events of the day following this night (with Kit's other surprises) but... I got so excited writing them together that this chapter emerged. Hope this accidental chapter turned out to be a treat and not a disappointment after the long wait. (Yes, I apologise for liking to torture them). I will go and work on the next chapter now before my inspiration leaves me! 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this! Let me know what you enjoyed :)


	10. Surprise Part I

_24 th October 2016, Bilbao, Spain._

**Emilia**

Fourth.

Emilia felt a twinge in her chest as she watched Kit inhale a deep lungful of thick smog from the glowing cigarette.

They have spent the whole day filming on location today and Kit had reached for his first stick after it was past midday. They have been waiting for hours for the crew to set things up right. Emilia watched helplessly as he lit up the stick while he texted on his phone and she stood too far away, chatting with Peter. It wasn’t a particularly stressful day but Emilia noticed he was on his phone, texting, whenever they weren’t filming. It has worried her for Kit wasn’t usually on his phone unless it was an emergency.

It was now almost the end of their day of filming. And he was now on his fourth.

“E-excuse me,” Emilia forced a smile at the costumes girls she was chatting with. She wedged herself past them and made her way over to where he was sitting beside Peter. She hadn’t spoken to him much at all today. They have spent the early hours of the morning nuzzling deeper and closer to the other before Emilia had to get up to start hair and make-up. It was an unspoken agreement that they would keep up the pretense of being mates. But then again, Emilia supposed they weren’t really anything more than that. Not yet.

She watched him glance behind him out of the corner of his eye as he turned to speak to Peter. She knew then that he saw her approaching. She glimpsed him lock his phone and reach for the small tin at the foot of his chair to stub out his cigarette. He leaned over to put the tin back at the foot of his chair. As he straightened in his chair, she came to a stop behind his chair. His long curls were pulled back firmly into a neat bun at the back of his head and Emilia wanted simply to undo the knot and comb her fingers through his curls.

“What?” he demanded harshly without turning to look at her. She flinched but it wasn’t a moment later when he allowed his head to loll back so he could look up at her. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw him. She thought then that he has the most beautiful face in this world. He had the cheesiest grin on his face and his pools of chocolate coloured eyes twinkled up at her. He looked years younger than he is and the sight of it tugged at her heart. _Kitten…_ Emilia pursed her lips against a smile. _You look adorable._ Stemming the urge to lean down to kiss him till he was breathless, Emilia instead brushed his cheek briefly with the back of her fingers before letting her hand fall to her side.

She felt his beard tickle her fingers. He had grown it out more for season 7 such that it didn’t feel as scratchy against her hand. Emilia found herself missing that as she studied way his beard thicken on the underside of his chin, “rude twat,” she snapped but could not completely hide her smile.

He pursed his lips against a smile before he pouted up at her. She stared longingly at the way his heart-shaped lips pouted under his moustache. _If only I could kiss you whenever and wherever I feel like kissing you… I don’t think I would live a full minute without feeling your lips against mine._

Considering if she should probe the texting or the smoking first, Emilia decided, “you’ve been smoking, quite a bit,” Emilia told him gently. His pout faded and he gazed up at her. His brows furrowed as his eyes glazed over in thought. When they refocussed, she knew he hadn’t been aware of it until she told him as a sombre moment of realisation came over him, “you okay?” she asked. She thought she glimpsed a flash of helplessness cross his face before he straightened his head from being lolled over the back of the chair. She rested a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it, the only way she dared to comfort him with everyone else around.

He took her hand in his. And Emilia froze in surprise but not one cast or crew member spared a second look their way as they continued their conversation. Then Emilia relaxed, allowing herself to marvel at the way his hand completely enveloped hers. Kit held her firmly as he tugged her closer by her hand. Smiling, she stepped up against the back of his chair. She gazed worriedly over the top of his head.

Then unexpectedly, her phone vibrated in her hand. She glanced down. _Gommie._ She raised a brow. It was weird that he was calling her, much less at this hour.

She glanced about to see no sign that they will begin filming soon before she picked up, “hullo,”

“HULLO!” Gommie cheered. She watched Peter hop off the chair beside Kit and make his way to the loo.

She chuckled, “what is it Gommie?” She glanced down to see Kit adjusting himself so that he could rest his head lightly on the arm. Her heart fluttered and she squeezed his hand gently, wishing desperately she had her other hand free so she could hug him to her.

“Happy birthday Brillow!” Gommie cheered.

“You’re late,” she droned despite the joy that poured into her from that one simple greeting from an old friend of hers.

He ignored her, “30…you’re an old maid now, aren’t you?” Gommie whistled.

Rolling her eyes, Emilia shot back, “fuck off,” she glanced down to see Kit nuzzle his temple just barely against her arm. It was evident he needed her now, “hey, listen, I’m at work. I’ll call you after when I’m finished alright?”

“Sure,” he sang before he hung up unceremoniously. She blinked before removing the phone to check if the signal was still available. After confirming that Gommie had hung up on her, she rolled her eyes before tucking her phone back into her jacket pocket. She turned back to Kit to see and feel him lean his head back till he found her tummy, where he sagged against.

“Who was that?” he asked, his eyes shut.

She smiled down at him, enjoying the weight of his head against her tummy, “Gommie,” she replied.

He made a mild noise of acknowledgement, “why did he call you?”

“To wish me happy birthday, and insult me,” she huffed.

Kit chuckled, “what did he say?” he opened his eyes to look at up her curiously.

Refusing to repeat it, she shook her head dismissively and asked him instead, “you okay?”

Kit pondered upon her question for a moment, his eyes glancing to the tin at his feet, “I will be,” he forced a small smile at her as he squeezed her hand.

“What can I do?” she asked softly.

“You are already helping me,” he shifted their hands so her hand rested over his chest, currently covered by armour, “do you remember?”

Emilia stared at their hands. _Our first Comic-Con together…_

_“I don’t want to smoke anymore, Milly,” he told her and the relief she felt was overwhelming._

_“That’s good, Kitten,” she whispered, barely able to contain her joy. She felt him press kisses into her hair before he nuzzled the top of her head._

_“Will you help me?” Kit mumbled into her hair._

_She grinned, “of course I will!” she turned to him, resting her chin on his shoulder. He smiled, chuckling at her enthusiasm. Pondering how she should go about doing that, she searched for his hand before lacing her fingers with his. She watched him gaze down at their hands before his fingers closed around hers. Before him, she hadn’t known a man could be so gentle._

_She grinned at him happily when his eyes raised to meet hers. He looked puzzled, “what are you doing?” he asked but it was plain from his smile that he welcomed this as much as she did. She had missed his touch since they parted when they arrived at the convention._

_“Literally trying to stop you from reaching for your cigarette,” she replied matter-of-factly, “is it working?” Emilia looked tentatively at him._

_Kit chuckled and nodded, “kissing might work better though,” he grinned cheekily and Emilia giggled, wondering how she could keep loving him more and more each day. She leaned over and pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek. The scent of him on his warm skin was intoxicating._

_Unable to resist teasing him and giving in to an impulse she has been curbing, she brought her lips to his ear to whisper in a sultry voice, “just a kiss?”_

She nodded.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, almost a mere whimper.

She shook her head, replying vehemently, “no, I don’t want you to be sorry,” she squeezed his hand, “I just-“ she paused, glancing around at the cast and crew chatting within earshot. _I love you and I- I don’t know what to do… I want you to be happy but also healthy…_

“I _am_ sorry,” Kit whispered, “for how much I have changed…” Emilia wanted to scream that she loved him anyway. _Fuck everyone else._ But before she could, he turned his head so his ear was over her tummy, “no more for today,” he decided and Emilia studied the look on his face, “but I’ll need loads of help,” his gaze was resolute before but now, he gazed up at her weakly. The uncertainty in his eyes of whether he has her support broke her heart.

She would be damned if she allowed him to doubt that, “you have mine, you know that,” she told him softly, “no matter what, you have my support,”

His smile lit up his face and she wanted so badly to lean over to kiss him. But she couldn’t. His glance to her lips told her he wanted the exact same thing and Emilia couldn’t help but resent how they are hiding what they are. But she will be patient. She will wait. Because he asked for her to.

Kit abruptly dropped her hand then and Emilia blinked, surprised. She withdrew her arm, trying to act nonchalant as she watched him sit forward so he was no longer leaning against her. He picked up his phone. He glanced to her once before he stood from the chair and shuffled away hurriedly.

It stung.

Emilia was surprised that it did as she watched him try to hide his calls and messages from her. They have been lovers before and they have spent half a decade as best mates. It hadn’t occurred to Emilia that there would be something that Kit would keep from her. It hadn’t occurred to her that it would affect her like that either.

 _Is it Rose?_ Emilia knew Kit has been trying to contact her for them to meet up so he could end the relationship with her. She stared at Kit chat on the phone. He chuckled and she winced as if she had been physically struck. Kit glanced her way and paused when he saw that she was already looking. Emilia had no idea what the look on her face was but Kit’s smile did not abate.

She forced a smile at him before tearing her gaze from him. _He should have his privacy._ She glanced about the set, trying to find someone to chat with to take her mind off of it. _He will tell me when he wants to._ She tried to comfort herself but that did little to nothing to stem the bitter taste forming in her mouth.

Then, at the corner of her eye, she saw him approaching. She turned to him. He wasn’t looking at her as he texted. When he came to a stop beside her, Emilia asked, “who was that?”

Kit looked up from his phone a moment later, “no one,” he shrugged it off.

She schooled her face against a wince. She had told him, when he had asked the exact same question. She swallowed the lump in her throat, hoping she can swallow her bitterness with it but to no avail. _Is it Rose?_ It was on the tip of her tongue but Emilia didn’t dare to ask. She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear either answer; a yes which would beg the question of why he walked away to take the call; a no which would compel her to overthink who else it could be and why he walked away to take the call.

She turned away from him, resolving to shove it out of her mind but even right up until the director was on the verge of calling for the take, Emilia was so disturbed by it she hardly noticed the take was beginning.

* * *

“Where are we going?” she asked him. He had barged into the hair and makeup trailer the moment he was done and promptly settled in the seat beside hers while he waited for her to be ready to leave. But he was not really waiting. He was fixated with texting on his phone the whole time, so much so Emilia could not even get a word in without feeling like she was interrupting. When she asked him why he seemed so chirpy, Kit had told her that they were going somewhere special.

She had asked him relentlessly then, regarding where they were heading. He had smiled secretively in reply, opting not to say a word. On the sixth time, as they dropped off from the transport that brought them from their filming location into town, it was then that he even thought to acknowledge her question.

“To celebrate,” Kit replied, his hand brushing hers repeatedly as they walked into town. Kit gently held her by the elbow for her to come to a stop as he flagged a taxi.

“Celebrate what?” Emilia raised a brow.

Kit smiled as he pulled open the taxi door, gesturing her into it, “your thirtieth birthday!” he enthused rather loudly and Emilia wanted to smack him, hard. She had told him she felt uncomfortable that she now seemed older than him by a year when in fact, it was only two months more before he too turned thirty. Kit has yet to get tired of taking the piss out of her for it.

Kit ducked down to the driver’s window and whispered to the driver, too softly for Emilia to hear the location. Kit then dug into his pocket and drew out his phone, showing the driver the place presumably. The driver nodded and Kit gestured her into the taxi.

She glared at the 29 year old man, who was looking much too gorgeous under the spanish sun. Truth be told, Emilia was still uneasy with how Kit walked away to take that damn call and she was bloody knackered from work. She did not feel like celebrating or going out for that matter. She just wanted to satiate her growling belly before washing up and snuggling into the hotel bed with him. But despite herself, one look at his winning smile had her ducking her head and climbing into the back of the taxi.

She watched him settled in beside her and the taxi started moving to their mysterious destination. She took a breath to quieten the buzz in her ears that usually happened when she got very tired. When she was sure she wasn’t going to scream at him, she asked, “where are we going exactly?”

Kit chuckled, shaking his head. He glanced to the taxi driver once before he reached into her lap, covering both her hands with one of his. His large hand was incredibly warm, his touch tender. It instantly stifled the growing annoyance she felt, “you are so fucking stubborn,” he turned to her, a grin on his face and Emilia swallowed a groan at how desirable he looked. There was an excited spark in his eyes. His cheeks were flushed from the heat. His curls, tied the whole time during filming, were now loose around his head.

When it became evident he would not respond to her question, she huffed before turning away, not unlike a child throwing a tantrum.

A breath of amusement left him before she felt his shoulder nudge her, “such a child,” he teased softly.

She snapped harshly, eyes flashing with anger, “still older than you are,”

She saw him pause, taken aback with her tone. His smile, the spark in his eyes, faded. His hand on hers stilled. Instantly, regret swelled in her stomach, making her hungry stomach churn. She was no longer hungry.

“Sorry,” she said before she turned away from him to look out the window, ashamed. She hated how she was acting but she just felt so damn annoyed at him; first for taking a call out of her earshot and then refusing to let her know who it was, second for texting someone else all day without a thought to explain it to her, and then, for dragging her out for a celebration that in her opinion was entirely uncalled for. The fact that she was used to knowing her own schedule, not liking surprises, made all this even more difficult for her to stomach.

She felt his hand gently brush aside her hair from sticking to her neck and forced herself to remain still instead of pulling away; some part of her still yearning for his tender touch. He placed his free hand on the side of her head, caressing the shell of her ear with his thumb, “what’s wrong?” he asked her quietly. She did not reply, not trusting herself to speak now and risk snapping at him again. A beat of silence passed before Kit scooted over so the side of his thigh was pressed up against hers, “I’m not telling you, because it is a surprise,”

“I don’t like surprises,” Emilia sighed.

Kit chuckled weakly, “I know… but you will like this one when you see it. I promise,” she was quiet. She had no doubt Kit was probably right because of how well he knew her but it did not mean she will like it right now, “Is that all?”

She nodded stiffly.

“Lie,” he stated, firmly but gently.

She closed her eyes against the passing scenery.

“Mils…” Kit brushed her hand with his, “I thought we are honest with each other now,”

 _Says you._ She almost snapped at him but managed to contain it just in time. This was not a time for petty arguments. Instead, she schooled herself into a façade of absolute calm as she said, “who called you earlier?” She could not bring herself to look at him.

Silence replied her.

With each passing second, anxiety rose within her and it was choking her. A sob wrestled its way through her constricting throat as tears begin to burn her eyes. _It is her…_ a little voice whispered.

“Is that what was bothering you all afternoon?” Kit asked, sounding incredulous.

She glanced to him to see him gaping at her. She wasn’t surprised he had noticed she was bothered but it did not mean she will admit it to him.

He laughed and she glared down into her lap, “my darling Milly,” he chuckled as he abandoned her hand to sling his arm over her shoulder and pull her closer. She resisted in the beginning, resolving not to lean against him. She wanted to have as little contact as she could with him now but Kit was having none of it. Eventually, he managed to wrestle her against his side. She resented the way her shoulder tucked itself snugly under his arm and her head was able to rest properly on his broad shoulder. It was extremely comfortable, and her body betrayed her when she relaxed against him, “it’s part of the surprise,” he whispered against her hair. With that, he pressed a firm kiss onto the top of her head.

“Really?” she muttered, “you were texting too… all day really,”

His arm tightened around her before he pressed another kiss to her forehead, “when you see it, you’ll know why,” he chuckled, “but I don’t want to tell you and ruin the surprise when we are so close now…”

She supposed it made sense, after he explained and she pondered it for a moment. But she remained annoyed.

He craned his neck down to her and Emilia had no doubt he would’ve glimpsed her frown and her knitted brows. He smiled, “are you knackered? You can have a kip if you want. I’ll wake you when we get there,” he whispered, brushing aside hair from her forehead.

At his suggestion, her body sagged with palpable relief but with her deep annoyance, at nothing she can pin point in particular even after he had explained everything there is to explain, she remain tensed.

He chuckled one such chuckle that shook his frame as his hand came up from her shoulder to press her head to rest on his shoulder. He turned his head so his bearded cheek nuzzled against her forehead. Tucked securely against him, the rise and fall of his sturdy frame and the sound of his slow breathing begin to make her eyelids droop. Her body grew heavier but she didn’t fall or shift even an inch. He was solid and unfailing.

Her mind began drifting off, hovering on the fridges of consciousness when she heard him, “Milly,” he whispered, “I love you, my darling,”  

She felt his lips brush against her hairline, his beard tickling her forehead. _Kitten…_ she wanted to respond, to hug him to her like how he held her, steadfast. But before she could, sleep claimed her.

* * *

“Milly,”

She was gently roused from a heavy haze of sleep. She mumbled incoherently.

“Time to wake up. We’re almost there,” The softest pair of lips she had ever felt brushed against hers. A whimper escaped her and she followed, tilting her head back against a sturdy, warm surface. A chuckle shook the previously still surface she leaned upon. She frowned as she was pulled further from sleep.

Those same lips pillowed themselves firmly against hers before they kissed her. The kiss was so tender that she felt herself melt against him. She kissed him back, just before they pulled away and disappeared. She whimpered and pried her eyes open, seeking those very lips.

The first thing she saw was a lovely head of ink black curls. A happy sigh escaped her and she blearily reached to comb her fingers through it.

“And, the hair gets all the attention, as usual,” he droned, “and not the head underneath it,”

She giggled unexpectedly, even for her. Her eyes lowered to see his feigned unamused expression, even if she could detect him fighting his amusement. That was when she caught sight of the tender pair of lips that had tugged her successfully from her dreamless slumber.  She craned her neck up, wanting to connect their lips once more. He chuckled before dipping to grant her wish.

He kissed her sweetly, too chaste for her liking but before she could begin to object, he spoke, “feel better?”

She paused, momentarily distracted in her pursuit for his kiss. She nodded bashfully when she recalled her mild tantrum before she slept.

He smiled, “good,” his dark brown eyes twinkled, “we’re almost there,” his voice could barely contain his excitement, Emilia mused. He glanced out the window but Emilia could not tear her eyes from admiring his face. She gently caressed his beard with her fingertips. The portion under his chin was so thick now that if he grew it out anymore, she would be able to run her fingers through it. She glimpsed his eyes slip shut momentarily under her touch before he turned back to look at her.

Emilia’s hand fell from his face as she met his eye.

He grew solemn as he said, “I know you don’t like me keeping things from you. You have always been incredibly honest with me… I promise to try not to keep things from you,” her heart swelled and she smiled, nodding. She was utterly contented with that. Then he added hurriedly, “unless it is a surprise,”

Emilia pursed her lips, “it doesn’t have to be a surprise,” she said, “unless-“ she paused as a possibility of why it was a surprise came to her. Realisation was sobering and Emilia fixed him with an accusing look, “unless you know I would tell you not to go through with it,” Kit had the decency to look sheepish as the taxi came to a gradual halt.

Emilia looked out the window and gaped.

 

Transfixed, she pulled from his side to get closer to the window. Behind her, she could hear Kit trying to stifle his laughter. She felt him begin to rub her back. She was mildly aware of Kit thanking the taxi driver and paying him. Kit exited the taxi and she glanced to him before getting off distractedly.

The castle was definitely not the largest castle she has ever seen or the most majestic. But it held a charm about it that Emilia could not place; it could be the greenery, the peacefulness, the complex architecture that she knew was promised within or the historical element to it. As she pushed the taxi door closed behind her, she was still gaping at it; her love for architecture filling her so much so she felt she could burst at the seams.

A soft breeze blew into her and the grassy scent of the countryside filled her senses, putting her entire body at ease. She jumped when she felt an arm encircle her waist rather abruptly.

Kit chuckled, “sorry. Do you want to go in?” he asked, “or do you want to stand here staring at it?”

Emilia nodded mutely, inwardly beside herself with excitement to be entering and visiting this castle, “are we with a tour?” she asked in wonder as they began making their way to the entrance. As far as Emilia could see, there weren’t many other visitors so she wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t have a tour available for such an off-peak timing. Nonetheless, she would be happy to buy tickets to wander the grounds and if she was lucky, she would probably be able to climb to the top and witness the view from above.

He did not reply and Emilia turned to him, raising a brow in question. Kit was pursing his lips against a smile. He was hiding something and she was incredibly puzzled. _What else was there to hide at this point?_ They came to the archway and Emilia could see the short walk that will take them to probably the ticket counter.

A well-dressed man, decked out in suit, tie and shined shoes then emerged from where Emilia did not notice. He smiled and made his purposeful way to them.

Kit stopped then and turned to her. His face melted into a small smile, an incredibly tender look in his eyes. He turned her to face him. With one hand on each of her shoulder, he ducked his head and pressed his forehead to hers. Her cheeks begin to warm as Kit completely disregarded the approaching bloke but she tried not to shy away. She did not want to, “alright, from this moment on, I don’t want you to worry about _anything_ ,” he told her solemnly, “I just want you to have a good time, and be the happiest woman who have ever lived,”

“I already am, Kitten,” she blurted.

A wide grin spread into his face, “not yet,” he brushed his nose against the tip of hers before he pulled away, “oh, and on the oft chance you want to kick my arse for this, save it for when we get back,” he added cheekily.

She frowned, even more confused than before his ‘clarification’. Kit turned from her and she followed his lead. The man came to a stop before them, brown eyed, black short cropped hair and sculptured beard, “welcome to Castillo De Arteaga. Mr Harington?” Kit smiled and nodded. They shook hands. The man turned to her and flashed a winning smile, “it is a pleasure to meet you, Ms Clarke,”

Surprised he knew her, she quickly pasted a smile on her face and nodded. _Why would he know my name? Unless the tour registration needed both our details…_ She puzzled it all in her head.

“My name is Daniel and I will be in-charge of anything you may need,” he gestured, “this way to reception,”

Kit smiled, “thank you,” they began walking and Emilia frowned, remembering to put her legs into motion a moment later. Kit pursed her lips in amusement at her as she tried to keep pace while being extremely confused. Kit stepped closer to him and spoke in a lower tone so she only caught two words, “-our bags,”

She could not hear Daniel’s reply and that only confused her even further. Whatever was said, Kit seemed satisfied before he slowed and fell into step with hers.

They came into a small well-furnished room that smelled like sandalwood. Kit turned to her, “do you want to sit here while I-“

“No,” she replied sharply, tired of being kept in the dark. She wanted to go to the counter and maybe stand a chance to foot some of the bill. Knowing Kit, he would probably refuse taking any amount from her after the tour.

Kit was unfazed and merely chuckled, “please, Milly. Just let me check something and I will tell you after,” he gave her a meaningful look and she recalled what he told her before they walked into the castle  

_I don’t want you to worry about anything. I just want you to have a good time, and be the happiest woman who have ever lived._

She sighed before relenting and sinking down into the plush sofa in the corner as Kit and Daniel proceeded to the counter to talk to the receptionist. She studied the interior furnishing. It looked marvellous with the high ceiling with wooden beams running across from it, the tapestry on the walls, the exquisitely designed carpets. It boasted a medieval feel and Emilia mused that they have gone from one medieval era on set only to fall into another.

“Would you like some tea, Ms Clarke?”

Emilia blinked to see a young lady before her. She was dressed in a similar manner as the man except in a pencil skirt. Emilia was just thinking that they were likely the most well-dressed tour company staff she has ever seen, and the one that boasted the best service, but bit her tongue against offering the compliment, “um,” she glanced to Kit, wondering if he would take a long time, “no thank you,” Kit then glanced back to her and smiled at her.

Emilia smiled back before watching Kit pull out his phone. He smiled at his phone and a bitter taste flooded her mouth. _Stop it. For fuck’s sake Kitten has already told you it is part of the surprise._ She bit her lip, trying to keep her jealousy at bay as she wondered why bringing her for a castle tour has kept him on his phone all day. Resolving not to fret over it, Emilia drew out her phone.

She had absolutely no messages from anyone of her family or friends to distract her. Annoyed, she opened up her Instagram and began scrolling. Instantly, she glanced to the corner of the screen to see that thousands of comments and likes have flooded into her previous picture of David and Dan in the mascots they rented to surprise her for her birthday. She smiled as she recalled how amusing they were and how amused she was, that they were sweating bullets in the Spanish sun and moaning for Kit to hurry up and snap the shot. Kit had taken the piss out of them too, by taking his time with the photo, earning himself a rude finger gesture from Dan, or Spongebob. 

As she scrolled listlessly, she saw people approaching from the corner of her eye. She looked up to see Kit approaching with Daniel on his heel. In his hand, he held a few brochures that Emilia presumed was about the various locations of the castle, “all settled. Let’s go,” he smiled and Emilia grinned, hopping to her feet. She surprised herself with how incredibly excited she was at the thought of roaming the castle.

They followed Daniel as he led the way. She walked alongside Kit, marvelling at the amazing architecture of traditional stone walls, narrow archways. They climbed up spiral stone stairways and Emilia felt like a child in her very own playground. She was so busy studying the architecture, wondering if she was allowed to touch the walls or anything, she didn’t realise Daniel did not say a word to introduce the place apart from pointing out locations such as ‘library’, ‘dining room’.  

Soon, they came to stop outside a door and Emilia was bursting with excitement to see one of the rooms. She glanced to Kit as they waited for Daniel to open the door. He was already looking at her and he had a small, pleased smile on his face. The door opened noiselessly and Daniel held it open.

Emilia felt her lips part in awe as she took in the room. It was majestic.

“Welcome to Lazkano Suite,” Daniel said proudly but Emilia was too busy gawking at the room to thank him or ask any questions, as one should while on tours.

“Thank you, Daniel,” Kit said.

“Do phone reception if you need anything,” Daniel said, “the restaurant is on the ground floor, behind the reception, near the wine cellars,”

Emilia blinked, turning around when she heard the door click shut; Daniel exiting the room. The gears turned in her head as she stared vacantly. When she gathered enough of her wits, she looked at Kit who now stood sheepishly in front of the white wooden door, “Kitten…” she whimpered, “what is happening?” she was slightly ashamed that she was still confused.

Kit laughed loudly and Emilia winced as his raucous laughter bounced off the high ceilings. He took two steps to her, covering the distance between them. He tossed the brochures and his bag on the chair by the door before he enveloped her in his arms. She loved the way he hugged her; gently yet securely, as if he was afraid she would disappear. Smiling, she buried her nose into the crook of his neck and took in the smell of sweat, tobacco and _Kit_ on his skin. She nuzzled her temple to his jaw as he leaned into her, “Milly,” he whispered, “my darling Milly. This isn’t a museum… this is a hotel.”

The gears clicked into place and her eyes bugged, “WHAT?!”

Kit startled in her arms from the sheer volume before he laughed. He withdrew to look at her simply because she was stunned into silence and was physically incapable of moving, “I’d say Happy Birthday but you probably don’t want to hear it anymore,” he chuckled. He waited expectantly but Emilia was still trying to comprehend what he has just told her and fully grasp the situation. His hands cradled her face between them carefully, “Milly… is it so unbelievable-“

“A-are you fucking kidding me?” she demanded, bent on believing he was playing a joke on her. That was easier to grasp than the fact that he just booked a room in a _castle_ for her birthday. It sounded ludicrous, even as she thought it.

“No,” he laughed, his eyes sparkling with deep fondness as he gazed at her and for a moment, Emilia wondered how she had been so blind to how he felt for her. His adoration for her was plain on his face and in his every action, down to the way his thumb absently caressed her when he touched her.

 _My sweet Kitten…_ She admired his gentle eyes. _How could I have doubted you when you have always been so loving towards me?_

His eyes shifted, suddenly uncertain, “so… d-do you like it?” he asked, the sheepish smile seemingly a permanent fixture on his handsome face since they stepped into the room and Daniel left.

 _Anything from you, I will love…_ Her heart swelled in her chest. She smiled and cupped his cheeks, “Kitten…” he beamed at her, the sheepishness slowly seeping away as how chuffed she was became evident to him, “this… this is too much,”

He mocked a glare at her, “I told you, I don’t want to worry about anything,” he said sternly, “you are to enjoy yourself. _That_ is the only thing you should worry about. So, do you like the room?”

Taking a breath and trying to shove the thought of the great expense he incurred for this, she smiled. Teasing him, she pretended to survey the room, intending to feign an air of nonchalance. But when she once again lay eyes on the room, her breath was taken away all at once.

She took in the high ceiling, exquisite carpet, ornate settee and vanity. The design incorporated much Victorian influences. It was elegant and boasted a feel that Emilia felt was too upper-class for her.

Turning to her right, Emilia passed the dresser. She admired the white wood before smiling at the white orchid that was placed there. She gazed up at the intricate design on the archway that doubled up as the headframe for the large bed. Stepping up onto the raised platform, her jaw dropped at the huge tub.

_This is perfect._ She looked up and gazed across the spacious room at Kit. He stood where she left him, watching her. _Kitten, you are perfect._ She felt a smile stretch across her lips and Kit mirrored her grin with his own adorable one. _You are too good to be real…_

She tore her gaze from him and turned to the small quaint window. Each window had an indented column that was embellished with a gorgeous mural of the countryside. Carefully rounding the tap of the bathtub, she stood gazing out the window.

Trees, rolling hills and small countryside houses were all she saw for miles, set against the backdrop of the orange glow from the setting sun. She felt all her worries fade as peace engulfed her. Tension dissipated from her tired bones and aching muscles. _Now all I need would be-_

Familiar arms snaked under her arms and encircled her waist. A warm solid body came up against the back of hers and she couldn’t help herself as she leaned back into its unwavering sturdiness. She pursed her lips unsuccessfully against a smile as strong, sure arms tightened around her, nestling her firmly against him, “Kitten,” a contented sigh slipped from her lips. She felt so simply safe. She wondered, for a moment, how she had survived this big scary world without this; without him.

He splayed his hand over her abdomen protectively, almost possessive. Her breath caught as his thumb gently caressed small circles over her abdomen; over her empty womb.

_What if I got pregnant?_

Her skin exploded with goosebumps as the thought came to her. The thought of their child; a little bit of Kitten and a little bit of her fused together to create life, awakened a heavy yearning in her that she had long buried when she thought she had lost Kit as a lover.

She tried to bring her hand up to blanket his only to notice it trembling. Steadying her hand, she stroked the back of his.

Gazing at the orange hue on the blue sky, she wondered if Kit thought about having children with her. _Does he think I would be a good mother? Does he want me as the mother of his children?_

“I almost forgot,” he said and she was startled from her reverie. He chuckled before he kissed her cheek in apology for scaring her. Before she could protest, he was gone. She raised a brow as she watched him cross the room, wondering what he was up to now.

She glanced back at the view through the window once before she drew out her phone from her pocket and snapped a quick photo of it. She wanted something from this night to keep with her forever. She didn’t think to do so with their first Valentine’s Day together in the hotel and it remained one of her regrets till this day.

She was checking the photo she just took when Kit spoke, “I hope you don’t mind it… but I picked out your dress for tonight,” Emilia blinked. Amidst the huge surprise he prepared for her, _specifically spending a night in a fucking castle_ , the problem of a change of clothes has completely slipped her mind. She turned to him to see him holding up a black dress, with frills around the arms and a silver zipper running down the length of the dress on the side. It didn’t escape her notice that the neckline was high, covering even her collarbone. She was immensely amused at the thought that undoubtedly went behind that detail. Despite that, she thought the dress looked nice; elegant, tasteful and gorgeous. _It is the first dress he picked out for me._

It was then Emilia noticed the tentative look on his face. She laughed, “it would be terribly awkward if I couldn’t fit in it-“

“I measured,” he blurted. She raised both brows. Kit lowered the dress, his cheeks reddening, “mostly estimated with my…” he glanced down at his hands, “hands and arms,” he ducked his head, “do you like it?”

She laughed, “I should sue you for a gross breach of privacy,” she felt her cheeks begin to warm as she imagined Kit trying to get her measurements while she slept.

Kit snorted. _The cutest sound._ Emilia swallowed a snicker. “Go ahead,” he shrugged as he placed the dress on the edge of the bed before he dug into the dresser. Emilia approached cautiously, wondering what else he got in there. He pulled out a shoebox, “and…” he pried open the box to pull out a pair of black pointed toes pumps, “shoes to match,” her lips parted to ask him what size he got her but he beat her to it, “UK size 4,”

Amused, she feigned a frown at him, “I don’t know if I should be scared now,”

It was his turn to laugh, “I have also packed your make-up pouch and the whole fucking bag of face products,” he puckered up his face and she only laughed harder.

She didn’t have a lot of face products; only a face cleanser, toner, moisturiser, a make-up remover and sunscreen but by now, she knew all men, _even sweet Kitten_ , held some disdain for the ‘extensive’ collection of face products women tend to own. But she loved him more for having thought to pack it for her anyway, “I see I have been robbed,” she teased.

He shot her a reproachful look as he approached her with the black pumps in hand. Kneeling at her feet, he gently removing her wedges. Helping her slide the new black pumps on, she admired the way he helped her clasp the slim buckle over her ankles deftly. The black pumps fit her well. When she had both on, Kit sat back on his heel to admire it before he stood, “dress?” he asked.

“Are we going to-“ she caught herself, “wait, let me guess, it is a secret,” she rolled her eyes.

Kit chuckled, pulling her to him and dipping his head to her lips. Automatically, she tilted her head back and craned her neck to meet his lips halfway in a chaste but sweet lingering peck. A shiver ran up her spine at the normality with which they had kissed, “a restaurant in the castle,” he whispered, his hot breath brushing her now tingling lips, “oh and,” he pulled from her momentarily, digging into the dresser. He retrieved a red squarish box about a bit larger than the size of his palm, “your present,” he grinned, “happy birthday,”

She feigned an annoyed eye-roll at him for intentionally wishing her happy birthday again, “I don’t need anything else,” she said softly, feeling chuffed but incredibly worried that Kit has overdone it, as he seemed prone to; more than he already did.

He blinked before he muttered, “I’ve already bought it,” she eventually sighed and nodded and he flashed a triumphant grin.

Despite herself, her smile was fixed on her face as she received the box from him. Kit gazed warmly at her as he guided them to the bed. They both perched on the edge and Emilia carefully put the box on her lap. She opened it, not sure what to expect.

_Jesus, it looks beautiful._

She took in the exquisite pattern of waves on the watch; how gorgeous the deep blue in it looked. That was when it occurred to her. She had given him an omega seamaster watch in their first year they were together. When she glanced to his wrist now, she saw said watch. She hardly remembered seeing him without it, except on days he was required to wear sponsored watches, since the day she gifted him with it.

She gazed to him. _This man. This amazing man._

She very nearly emptied her bank account to get that watch for this man and not a day went by that Emilia regretted doing it. Memories of years before, when she had browsed through countless of watches just to find that perfect one for him, came back to her. She remembered feeling envious when she was mistakenly presented with the ladies collection or worse, a couple collection. But she had swallowed her want for both and used all her money to purchase just the one for him. The look on his face had made all the time and money spent worth it to her. The way he kept glancing at it all through the day made her happier than any watch she could have bought for herself.

She parted her lips to say something to him. Words of thanks, of love, raced through her mind but neither made it past her lips. She ended up gaping at him and Kit chuckled. He reached for the watch, muttering, “suppose I would have to put it on for you,” he was smiling to himself as he removed the plastic on the watch and Emilia could only manage gazing at him. She wondered how it could be that the person perfect just for her was right in front of her now. _How have we found each other amongst the billions?_

Her body did not feel like her own when Kit amusedly picked up her almost limb hand and put the watch on for her; clasping it firmly over her right wrist, where she usually wore her watches. He adjusted it slightly before he admired it.

“Do you like it?” he whispered before looking to her.

Emilia willed herself to respond, nodding, and she only did a second later. “This watch… must have cost quite a bit,”

Kit blinked, seemingly surprised at her first choice of words since he presented the watch to her. When he got over his surprise, he scooped both her hands into his, “Milly, I can afford it,” he told her, “better than you could when you bought me this,” he glanced down to the watch on his wrist.

Emilia supposed she shouldn’t be surprised that he remembered. She began to protest, “still-“

“You are worth everything I do for you and so much more,” he interrupted, telling her firmly.

The resoluteness in his hardened brown eyes muted more of her protests and for a second, Emilia thought she believed it; that she was worth it.

She watched in wonder as his eyes melted and his soft gaze returned, “now we match,” he smiled a small smile and she followed his gaze down at their hands. He positioned their arms adjacent and Emilia pursed her lips against a smile. They do match, very well.

“So fucking corny,” she whispered, giggling.

“You love it,” he teased. The back of his fingers brushed hers before he slowly but surely snaked his arm into the inside of hers and laced their fingers together. Because she wore hers on the right and he wore his on his left, their matching watches stood in all their glory side by side.

Emilia could not help but admire them, a sweet warmth blossoming in her chest and spreading across her body down to her toes. She did not know how long they sat there, their gazes alternating between their watches and each other.

Eventually, a regretful look passed over his face before he said, “it’s almost time. Get changed Mils,”

She smiled at him, reluctantly pulling her hand away. They both stood from the bed and she turned to pick up the dress. The fabric felt smooth against her hand. She unzipped the dress slowly, watching it open. She placed it on the bed and reached to remove her top. Pausing, she turned to see Kit, as she guessed, staring right at her. His eyes trailed their way up her body before they finally met her eye, “turn around Kit, unless you want to turn up at this restaurant with a hard-on,”

“I-“ he started but it was a moment later that he seemed to have second thoughts, “fine,” he sighed, “I’ll be in the bathroom,” he hung his head and dragged his feet exaggeratingly.

She laughed, “fucking wanker,”

“You just may be right about that,” he shouted back to her and her cheeks heated up. All while she pull aside her clothes to put on the dress, her mind wandered to the image of what he could be doing in the bathroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If any of you is wondering, yes, I intend for the watch given in this chapter to be the same watch that Emilia is seen wearing in Season 8 read-through.  
> This chapter has been a massive thing to research and YES I think I found the exact suite Emilia stayed in, judging by the photo she took (as seen in this chapter).  
> Some of you might notice a lack of quotes at the beginning because all the quotes would be in the next chapter that should wrap up Emilia's 30th birthday celebration that Kit had in mind since chapter 8 :) 
> 
> I wrote this and am posting this while nursing a massive headache from a blocked nose and a fever, so do forgive me for any errors you see (will be back to edit them later). Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter anyway! 
> 
> Also, am super behind on my comment replies but I will get there! All of you are super amazing and I do read every single one of them :) 
> 
> Anyway, stay tuned for part 2. Would love to hear what you guys wish to read in that ;) also, am considering if I want to go AU with this (that I'm leaning towards because some of you have pointed out that you would love to read some of their life together). Would love to hear what you guys think about that too!


	11. Surprise Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kit Harington has slowly been letting go of his party ways, and it’s all thanks to co-star Emilia Clarke. The two grew very close while on set of their hit show, Game of Thrones, and Clarke has since helped Harington stay on the right track.  
> “Emilia is very good at keeping Kit in line and out of trouble because he respects her and besides that, she’s tough and one of the wisest person on set. He listens to her when she tells him to slow down and stay focussed. He doesn’t drink half as much as he used to, if at all. 
> 
> \- Inside source (Radar Magazine, April 2019)
> 
> About. THAT. Night. Could’ve danced all night? Ruddy DID DANCE ALL NIGHT. Most epic most magical most memorable most fun weekend of my entire existence thus far. And yup. Having checked? Still a child. #ilovemyfamilyandfriendssomuchitdefiesbelief #igottafeelingthisisthedecadeivebeenwaitingfor….
> 
> \- Emilia Clarke (Instagram, October 2016)
> 
> The epitome of the party that was dirty thirty….@david.mumeni and I showing ‘strictly come dancing’ how it’s really done… #salsaingsillymakesthetequillasitpretty #thankgoodnessyogagavemeabackthatcanbend
> 
> \- Emilia Clarke (Instagram, October 2016)

_24 th October 2016, Arteaga, Spain._

 

**Kit**

She looked breath-taking in that dress. Kit stared at her longer than what would be considered socially appropriate; till her cheeks redden; till she complained for him to stop staring at her; till she slapped her hand over his eyes; till she kissed him, once again stealing his breath away.

He then changed to something more presentable than t-shirt and jeans with her watching him, bent on making him feel as self-conscious as he made her feel. He thought he would feel hesitant, especially when she winked at him salaciously once he shed his jeans. Instead, he had felt cheeky and flaunted to her eagerly so he could catch a glimpse of her pink cheeks once again.

When his phone vibrated, to cue that it was time for them to go down into the restaurant, Kit had offered her an arm. A sweet, almost shy, smile crossed her lovely face as she slung her arm through his, resting her hand on the crook of his. Pride bloomed in his chest as he puffed his chest out, lifted his chin obnoxiously and strutted out. Emilia giggled loudly, “stop it,” she chided when they passed a staff on the way and she blushed in embarrassment.

“What?” he protested, “I’m proud to be escorting you to dinner,”

She rolled her eyes, “you don’t have to be so haughty about it,”

Kit widened his eyes, “of course I do, look at you,” he grinned, “the sexiest woman alive,” he declared.

Emilia groaned as he took the piss out of her again, “for 2015,” she hissed.

“And 2016,” he smirked.

“Fuck off,” she snapped.

He laughed as he escorted her to the restaurant, glancing sideways at her. She was quiet as she was filled with amazement for the architecture of the castle once more. When he was choosing a spot to celebrate her birthday with a short vacation somewhere, he instantly knew she would be fascinated with the idea of a castle. And the look on her face when she saw it, and knew they were going to enter, confirmed it.

He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket again and subtly fished it out of his pocket to glance to it. It was Lola, telling him they have decided to hide and scare her. He hid a smile before turning to her.

Emilia’s smile was entirely gone. She was gazing almost sadly into space. The look on her face now was like how she was on set earlier, when she was bothered by who has been contacting him and taking him away from her. Kit felt guilty for making her jealous like that but he could not stem his amusement that she was jealous of her best mates; namely David, Lola and her own brother, Bennett. They have been helping him coordinate the party he had organised for her while he was stuck filming.

He regarded her thoughtfully. As ridiculous as her jealousy seemed from his perspective, Kit understood how it looked from her perspective, especially when she has always been completely honest and open to him. _You’re adorable when you’re jealous._ He dropped his arm she had slung hers through before he snaked his arm around her shoulder. Pulling her to his side, he pressed a kiss to her temple, “I love you,” he whispered, trying his best to assure her until he could tell her everything.

He peered down to see a smile spread across her face and her arm snaked around his waist, squeezing his hip.

They came to the entrance of the restaurant. It was empty.

And Kit did not expect any less than this for he had booked the entire restaurant.

They did not need all of it but the last thing Kit wanted was for excited fans or on the oft chance, paparazzi, to ruin this night. Kit wanted all of it to be perfect for her. _Because you are perfect. To me._ He gazed sideways at her. _For me._

She was gazing in awe up at the glass ceiling through which she can view the orange sky and later, the moon and stars. Resisting an urge to kiss her again, Kit glimpsed Lola coming around the corner and Gommie rising from under a table near Emilia. He pursed his lips against a laugh as Emilia was still busy marvelling at the view, completely oblivious. He steeled himself and readied his arms to catch her if she should stumble in her heels when startled.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY BRILLOW!” Gommie literally leaped into her arms. The whole place erupted with cheers as people emerged from where they were hiding.

“Jesus Christ-“ Emilia screamed, “fuck,” she stumbled back with Gommie in her arms, his legs wrapped around her legs. Kit supported her as she fell into him, trying his best to hold her up. 

“Happy birthday!” Everyone chorused as they approached. Gommie hopped off her after kissing her soundly on both cheeks. Emilia blinked, seemingly still in sheer shock as Gommie withdrew to be replaced by Lola, David, then Mike, Bennett followed, Imogen came after and Kit did not recognise the rest. He presumed they were her mates from drama school as Kit also charged Lola and David with the responsibility to invite whoever Emilia herself would not hesitate to invite.

Kit watched on fondly as all her closest friends showered all their love upon her, gushing words of praises, coupled with insults – the only kind of praises Emilia was willing to receive. All the while, she never looked back to him nor did she reach back for him because she was evidently swamped with attention. There wasn’t a whole lot of them, less than Kit had planned for by booking the whole venue, because Lola and David knew Emilia preferred quality company over quantity but with quality company came a whole load of loving attention.

So Kit made do by peering over her shoulder, hoping to catch glimpses of all her smiles this evening. She was radiant and he basked under the glow of her happiness, even if none of them were directed to him. The staff began serving their food and drinks and Kit reached out to her, wanting to bring her attention to the food. He knew she would be hungry; it was way past her dinner time.

She was giggling loudly and hugging Lola to her side. Before Kit’s fingers could find her shoulder, she spotted the food and squealed before dragging Lola to a table and out of his reach. Kit stared, blinking. Then he chuckled. _She’s hungry. Like I thought._ He watched her squeal over the food that was being served before eagerly grabbing a serving.

Kit had deliberated over the menu for a while before sending it to Lola and Bennett to seek their inputs. Only Lola had suggested a change for the dessert that Kit was only happy to oblige for there had been too many possible choices for him to consider. Watching her beam at the food now, Kit was glad beyond measure that she liked what he has chosen.

He helped himself to the cocktail station that was basically a make-shift bar. He had specially requested that because he knew how much Emilia would enjoy that. Getting his drink, he went to a vacant table, from which he could see her. Kit had also specially requested for the staff to take pictures of the party, noticing that Emilia had begun taking a lot more photos now. When he asked her why, she told him she wanted the photos as keepsake for all the precious memories. Bearing that in mind, Kit was ready to hire a photographer for the event should the castle be unable to accommodate his request.

Looking over the party, Kit spotted one staff going around offering to take polaroids for everyone. And the music, that Kit had also requested, had started playing in the background. Kit was never much of a planner, especially to this degree of detail but everything was going nicely. He smiled, pleased.

Then he glanced over to Emilia to see her beside Gommie and David. They looked to be preparing to have their photo taken by Lola, on her phone. He watched, uneasy, as Emilia giggled at something Gommie said and sat down on his thigh for the photo. He pursed his lips when Gommie’s arm completely encircled her small waist, palming her stomach, not unlike how Kit himself did earlier.

His stomach flipped unpleasantly, threatening to make him heave out the content of his empty stomach, when Emilia giggled happily, leaning back into Gommie’s chest. David sat down beside Gommie, leaned over him and hugged Emilia’s arm to his face.

_Don’t be ridiculous, they are her best mates._ Kit turned away from the scene, trying to swallow the bitter taste on his tongue.

“Not hungry?”

Kit looked up to see Bennett; Emilia’s older brother, standing opposite him across the table. They have met as Bennett worked on Game of Thrones as part of the camera crew but their conversations have been limited to sharing a long table at lunch and cordial greetings. This would be the first time they were speaking alone. Kit chuckled, “maybe later,” he gestured to the vacant seats and Bennett settled in the chair with a plate before him.

Kit glanced over to see Emilia chatting enthusiastically with Gommie and David. He smiled before he sipped his drink. She was laughing so loudly, Kit could hear her perfectly from where he was sitting. It was then he noticed Bennett watching him over his plate with a smile. Flustered at having been caught watching his sister, Kit smiled a tight smile before he took another sip of his drink.

“Thank you,” Bennett started. Kit raised a brow in puzzlement. Then Bennett took a glance over his shoulder in the same direction Kit was just looking to and he said, “I haven’t seen her this happy since our father passed,” Kit then saw the same look that Kit has seen countless times in Emilia’s eyes whenever she mentioned her father.

“I’m sorry,” Kit said softly.

Bennett smiled a half-smile, swallowing before he shook his head dismissively, “but really,” as if on cue, Emilia’s loud giggle reached their table. Bennett chuckled, “you’re good for her. I’d admit I didn’t think so at first,” Kit almost choked on his drink, “I fell asleep listening to her sobs on Christmas day that first year you two separated,” Kit stared. He had no idea and he knew from the way Bennett sought him out to speak to him that Bennett was telling him this in private, “she didn’t want us to worry so she cried in her room, next to mine all because she misses you. She only admitted to me what the problem was when I threatened to tell our parents,” Bennett shook his head,

“my sister would tear herself apart for you, if you asked, and even if you didn’t, if you needed,” Bennett said, a pained look in his eyes and Kit knew Bennett was recalling a specific instance of such, “when she insists to stay by your side even if seeing the news about your new relationship on TV had her fleeing the room to cry, no doubt; when she encourages your relationship with Rose just because she sees how good Rose is to you, how Rose could be there for you when she couldn’t; when she wanted so much to stay by our father’s sickbed but she knew your first big play, for a long time, would be starting soon. She was so stubborn about going,” Bennett chuckled bitterly but Kit could not bring himself to echo his chuckle for Kit didn’t know this; the length she went to to see him in Dr Faustus. But he knew she was stubborn because she was keeping a promise she made a long time ago.

Bennett continued, breaking his train of thoughts, “you should’ve seen how angry Jai was with her because she refused to take their relationship further,”

Kit bristled, “what?” he seethed. He picked up his glass to notice it was already almost empty. He hadn’t realise when he had drained it.

Bennett chuckled, “a few of our good mates and I took care of it, although not before she pissed him off by telling him she wasn’t serious about the relationship to begin with,” Kit was visibly relieved that she was safe as he sat back in his seat. His chest was aching at what Bennett just revealed to him rather abruptly

“I had watched her worry herself over you and try whatever she can manage to get closer to you; a man who is already in love and with another. And publicly,” Kit’s lips parted in explanation but Bennett gave him a weak, pleading look for him to listen. Kit relented and poured what remained of his drink into his mouth, “Both of you became more and more famous and I knew how it would affect her reputation if she were to be spiralled in with you, how the headlines of disgusting tabloids would read – Emilia Clarke, a homewrecker,” Every fibre of Kit burned with indignant rage at that accusation but Bennett continued before he could utter a word, “I know she is not but that is not how it would look to the public,” Kit sank into his chair, the indignant rage slithered away to be replaced with nausea of the truth of what Bennett was saying. _When has my love become a danger to her?_  

A waiter came and Kit distractedly nodded to the offer for some wine.

“So you can see why I did not think you were good for her,” Kit clenched his jaw. _I already know that; I think that all the fucking time._ “in all honesty, even now,” Bennett met his eye meaningfully. _Rose. I am still in a relationship and Emilia is risking everything to be here with me._

“I want to end it,” he croaked, suddenly desperate to convince Bennett, “I will; before us,” he glanced in the general direction where he last saw Emilia.

Bennett studied him from behind his glasses and Kit realised then it wasn’t unlike how a father would study his daughter’s boyfriend. It dawned on Kit suddenly that with their father’s recent passing, Bennett probably felt it was his responsibility to watch over his sister on his behalf. But Kit welcomed that; whatever was good for her. Bennett looked down at his plate as he admitted, “I know you care for her. Crew gossip, even cross-unit and the ridiculous amount of effort and money you put into planning this birthday party,” he chuckled and Kit chuckled, albeit nervously, “and you make her incredibly happy since season 7 started. If you’re really serious about her-“

“I have always been serious about her,” Kit was unable to stop himself when he cut in sharply.

Bennett nodded, “then I will be happy for the two of you,”

Kit was appreciative for Bennett taking the initiative to talk to him but Kit did not miss the connotation in his words; that his happiness for them will only be for the future. Kit did not blame Bennett for disliking the position he put Emilia in; Kit himself disliked it. But he was determined to end it as soon as possible, “thank you Bennett,” Kit said.

“You can call me Ben,” he smiled and in his smile, Kit could see a shadow of Emilia’s smile, “I won’t call you Kitten though,” Ben pulled a face.

Kit choked on his wine before they both laughed, “I’m eternally grateful,”

When Ben left the table to get more food and mingle around, he told Kit to feel free to mingle around with Emilia’s mates as well, teasing him that they were mostly very friendly. Kit smiled, promising he will but Kit found himself still sat at the table in the corner alone even when Ben disappeared into the crowd.

_Rose._

Kit was still unable to reach her but it wasn’t from the lack of trying. He had left her six text messages, all suggesting they met up as soon as possible. In the later, and more desperate ones, he suggested a phone call if she was that busy. All of them were left unanswered as well as his two attempts to call her at an hour he supposed she would be available to chat.

 _She’s avoiding me._ Kit had a strong feeling of that in the back of his mind but couldn’t for the life of him figure out why. She was the one who had insisted they kept in contact and yet, here she was avoiding him. Kit massaged the bridge of his nose. He had never understood nor, he was starting to think, will he ever understand her.

The conversation with Bennett felt like cold water over his haze of comfort he had allowed himself to indulge in. With renewed determination, he pulled out his phone and punched in another text message.

**Where the fuck are you? Call me as soon as you can.**

He sent it before he could think on it. Frustrated with how helpless he felt, Kit left his phone face down on the table before he picked up his wine glass and sipped at it. He had no idea if this was his fourth or fifth glass, following the cocktail. He had left the woman he love exposed and so, vulnerable to have her reputation and career ruined just by being by his side. Kit didn’t think he could bear it if he was the reason Emilia’s well-deserved and hard-earned career spiralled downhill.

He glared at his phone, willing it to vibrate. The seconds ticked by and Kit’s hand twitched to his pocket, where his pack of cigarettes usually sat. But when he dug into his pocket, it was empty. It was then Kit recalled that he had given his packet of cigarettes to one of the crew members before he left the set, after he promised Emilia he would not smoke anymore for today. He has had four cigarettes this morning. To Kit, that was no surprise and in the past few years, most days he has had more than that easily. But he did not want to frighten or worry Emilia, so he had promised her that. And he had meant to keep that promise.

But now, Kit was not so sure he could abide by that promise. He glanced around to see a bloke, who he did not know, standing outside the restaurant, smoking. Kit knew he could approach the bloke and ask for a stick. _It would be so easy…_ He fiddled with the neck of the his wine glass and counted the seconds but his fingers yearned for the weight of a cigarette between them, his lungs was starved of the pungent smell, and his body was tensed and so restless he thought he was starting to ache.

His decision was made for him when he drained his glass and his fingers were painfully empty. _I would be in again in a jiffy. No one would notice._ He snatched up his phone and stood from the table.

“Here you go!”

He startled when a huge plate of food was shoved under his nose. Kit followed the arm to the owner to see the most radiant grin ever. _And isn’t this the most beautiful face I have ever seen._

“Aren’t you hungry? You haven’t had anything…” she slipped her free hand into his and before Kit could say anything, she tugged him back to sit. Truth be told, Kit was surprised she even noticed. He didn’t think she still remembered him from the way she chatted and giggled with her mates. But her presence now proved otherwise. 

Emilia did not remove her hand from his as she picked up a fork from the table and handed it to him. Kit stared at the fork in her hand. His entire body was tensed and longing so desperately for a smoke by now. But gazing at her expectant, hopeful visage, Kit knew he would not forgive himself if her lovely face fell. So he relented and took the fork. With one hand holding hers under the table, Kit started eating.

She was curiously quiet as she watched him eat. Kit glanced to her to see her smiling at him. He shoved a bite of food to her on the end of his fork. She grinned and ate it, humming contentedly. Kit chuckled before he fed her more, teasingly giving her a ridiculously huge bite.

She laughed at that but was, as usual, up for the challenge and did not look the least bit intimidated. Mocking a glare at him, she wolfed down the food with vigour and Kit watched her struggle with it, amused. Despite all that teasing, Kit could see how happy she was and he was pleased. _Making you happy feels like the most satisfying and worthy thing I have done all year._ He mused to himself.

He fed her from his plate between his own bites till she refused to eat anymore. As he chewed his last bite from the plate, he noticed she was gently stroking his knuckles with her other hand such that both her hands held his. Her touch, quiet comforting presence and the food she brought him soothed his anxieties, fears and stoked the fight in him that Kit thought has long sizzled out. He squeezed her hand with renewed determination to stand by his promise. _Thank you._ He met her eye and felt she knew what he wanted to say when a small smile curve into her lips.

“Thank you,” she whispered, the first thing she said since he started eating, “Lola told me,” her voice thickened, “that all of this, is you,” her eyes welled up and Kit frowned.

“Hey,” he whispered back, “no tears tonight,” he tried to sound stern but Kit thought he only sounded gentle.

She sniffed and nodded, “I love this, all of it,” she smiled, looking to be trying her hardest to stem the tears.

Gazing at and trying to memorise the sight of her face in this moment, Kit nodded, “your smile is all the thanks I need,” he brought his free hand to her face and brushed her jaw momentarily with the back of his knuckles. It was the only show of affection he dared to demonstrate here, where her friends could see them. _I don’t even deserve her. Especially now._

His heart wrenched when her smile widened upon his touch. Oblivious to the guilt he was feeling, she leaned into his touch as if he had already given her everything when he felt he had given her nothing but put her in jeopardy. His hand fell from her face and her smile faltered, “what did Ben talk to you about?” she asked curiously.

 _The truth._ Kit’s gaze fell in shame. _I made the woman I love the ‘other woman’ and in doing that, I put her in a dangerous and vulnerable position. My love for you is doing that to you without me even realising it…_ Kit, however, decided to bite his tongue instead. He knew she would want to know and Kit intended to tell her. He just didn’t want that time to be now. Kit plastered a smirk on his face, “he gave his sister to me,”

Emilia paused, evidently not expecting that answer. She snorted, “right…” Kit’s smirk did not falter even in the slightest and Emilia hesitated, “really?” Kit laughed and she rolled her eyes, “shit off,” 

The waiter came around to their table, asking if Kit wanted a refill. Kit instantly nodded and the waiter began pouring. The moment he left, Kit reached for the wine glass but found Emilia’s hand in his instead. Kit wasn’t sure he preferred the wine glass. He gazed at their hands for a moment. _I have this now._ He relished in the realisation that washed over him quite suddenly; of the normality, the right he had to hold her hand. He squeezed her hand, almost afraid she would disappear. She did not and for a second, Kit allowed himself to think that he would always have this and he could not be happier.

“How many glasses of wine have you had?” she asked and he looked up to meet her eye, “I saw the waiter making multiple trips here already…” her voice trailed off and she gave him a meaningful look.

Looking into her concerned eyes and seeing no sign of annoyance or disapproval he was so used to seeing, Kit admitted, “I don’t know,”

“Got to keep a count on that,” she laughed, “and slow down Kitten,” she teased with a mischievous glint in her eye but Kit could see from her eyes that she was serious. Instead of instinctively baulking at the same advice he has been given by multiple people, multiple times, and becoming defensive as he was prone to be, Kit was silent and all ears, “we can’t have you doubling up as the ‘thank you for coming’ mat for the guests,”

Kit feigned a scoff but her words fell right onto his heart, where they stayed and resonated.

“Since you have been decent to me,” Emilia nodded back to the ongoing party and Kit raised a brow teasingly, “I’ll do you a favour,” a cheeky grin embellished her lovely face and with that, she picked up his wineglass by the slim neck. His eyes unwittingly fell to the way her full lower lip pressed against the glass. Kit could see where he had drank from and Emilia was drinking from the exact spot, her lips pressed to where his lower lip marked it. He watched, mesmerised at the way her lips lingered on the glass as she lowered it. He stared at the way her slender neck moved as she swallowed, transfixed.

He blinked when Emilia replaced the glass on the table. Coming back to himself, Kit replied scathingly, “thank you very much,”

Grinning, she replied without missing a beat, “you’re fucking welcome,” she declared. Kit snorted a laugh as he gazed at her proudly. _This is my best mate. This is also my love. And she just saved me. Even if she is fucking clueless-_

“Brillow!”

Automatically, no matter how reluctant, their hands pulled apart. Emilia laughed when she turned to see David and Oliver approaching, both looking slightly tipsy, “what?” she scoffed teasingly. Kit gazed fondly at her and it was plain on her face and in her eyes that she absolutely loved all her mates to bits and Kit was chuffed that he was a part of it, in a small way, tonight.

“Why are you sittin’ here?” David demanded, his words slightly slurred, “come and rip up the fucking dance floor with me!”

Emilia giggled, “how much did YOU fucking drink?” she made to point at him but David grabbed her around the wrist and made to tug her up.

“Not enough!” Oliver and David chorused before they roared with laughter.

“That’s how much I have to drink if I am to dance with both of you,” Emilia scoffed but Kit could see her eyes shining as she looked up at them with eyes that smiled. _She has so much love to give. And I will give you all of mine._

“Oh come on then!” Oliver snatched her other wrist from her lap, “we have to get your dirty thirty party _really_ started!”

Emilia raised her brows as she was lifted off her seat against her will. It was then, to his surprise, he caught her turn back to look to him, a question in her bright eyes.

“Show ‘em Clarke,” Kit grinned, raising his hands to clap.

Kit caught a glimpse of her replying grin as she turned to allow her mates to drag her to the dance floor in earnest. He watched David grab her around the waist and try to dip her. Kit could hear her shriek of fear even from where he sat, over the music. He chuckled as he watched her try to act tough and brave as they waved a camera man with the polaroid camera over.  He watched them fumble a few more times, highly amused, before a successful shot was taken.

With the polaroid in her hand, he watched her dance with her mates. In all honesty, Emilia was an unsightly dancer; arms and legs akimbo as she attempted something more than awkward bobs. She hooted rowdily as Imogen joined them before she continued her atrocious dancing. He has seen her dance decently before but Kit suspected she had more alcohol in her systems then, enough to make her feel more confident in her body than she was. Watching her now, being silly and giggling with her mates in sheer joy, Kit chuckled to himself, his fondness for her only growing.

When she disappeared momentarily from his sight into the crowd, Kit rose to get himself more food when his stomach growled. He was reaching for a serving of lamb the chef cut out for him when he glanced to his side to see Lola.

“Hey,” Lola smiled.

“Hey,” Kit replied, “you first,” he gestured to the lamb that Lola seemed to be waiting for. Lola hesitated before she nodded and took it. Kit waited for the chef to cut him another and he was surprised when Lola waited with him, “um, I never thanked you, for helping with this,” he gestured to the party.

Lola blinked before she laughed, “are you kidding me? I literally only invited the people,”

Kit picked up a cocktail from a passing waiter, “that is pretty much everything,” Kit chuckled as he glanced over to Emilia, singing along with the music as she bobbed with her mates. _To her._ Emilia jumped and slung her arm over Oliver’s shoulder, her grin wider than Kit remembered seeing.

“And it would have been a shit party in the wilderness,” Lola snorted. Kit choked on a laugh, “really, it’s all you. Don’t be so modest Kitten,” Kit choked on his drink this time, “sorry,” Lola laughed but Kit could tell from her tone she didn’t mean that apology, “Em told me you _love_ that nickname,” she chortled.

Kit rolled his eyes. He hadn’t spoken to Lola much before now but from this brief encounter, Kit could tell why Emilia loved Lola. Her candidness was unrivalled and there was no one better than this to keep her grounded when her work brought her higher than the clouds sometimes. Emilia had a charm and genuine quality that made her irresistible to the press, talkshow hosts and people she needed to please in this industry. And she has amazing fans who were incredibly loyal to her. With all the fan fawning over her, the press throwing themselves at her feet, Emilia has become a favourite.

And Kit completely agreed with all them. _She is my favourite too._

_She’s mine._

“So you turn out to be as fucking crazy as Em told me you are,” Lola whistled, “I mean, this is the _shit_ ,”

Kit laughed as he followed Lola’s gaze to the glass ceiling from which they could see the stars twinkling and the castle towering over them. Lola, courtesy of her family connections, was no stranger to luxury and for her to be saying so, for once since he made those calls, Kit wondered if he overdid it, “she deserves more than all this,” he glanced over to Emilia to see her swaying now, with her eyes closed and singing at the top of her lungs.

“Alright Mr Prince Charming, you need to take it down a notch for all the other regular men other there,” Lola teased. Kit could not, for the life of him, figure out if Lola was intoxicated or not but he supposed she would be. She has been with Emilia at the beginning of the party and Emilia was more than a little intoxicated by now.

“And let the competition win?” Kit said, only half-joking as he eyed a stray hand on Emilia’s rib, too close to her breast for Kit’s liking.

Lola laughed, “Em has always had no problem getting men to chat her up at bars,” _I’d bet._ Kit thought bitterly, “but she is crap at keeping them,” Kit raised a brow, “she wouldn’t give them her number or if she did, she would start doubting herself and him. And she would end it before it ends. It’s like she doesn’t believe someone could love her that much, y’know,” Lola dug into her lamb leg, oblivious to Kit pondering what she has said, “told her fucking loads of times. But half of them blokes she had were dicks… so I don’t blame her for ending-“ Lola paused, “other than you,” Kit chuckled, “but even you were a dick once in a while, no offense.”

“None taken,” Kit pursed his lips against a grin. He was enjoying Lola, more than he thought he would.

“She loves you the most,” Lola told him, taking a bite of lamb, “even more than- you wouldn’t know him – the cute dude she was with before she flew off to America for Thrones. _Fuck,_ and he is fit too,” Lola scoffed, “and more than Terminator dude and the other one, the gay. If what they had could even be called love,” Lola’s face scrunched up in something resembling disgust, “but she wouldn’t admit it no matter how many times I sang it in her drunk face,”

Kit chuckled, “thanks for being on my side, Lola,”

Lola shrugged, “you are a good bloke, Kitten,” Kit stifled a scoff at that nickname. Every inch of him scream in protest to be called that by anyone but Clarke, “but you have to stick around, no matter how difficult she is and fuck, I know how difficult she can be; a complete bitch. But be like a fucking koala to a bamboo,” Kit did laugh then, “or is it a panda…” Lola rolled her eyes, “ah, fuck it,” she chuckled as she glanced across at him, holding his guts, “you get it, right?”

He forced himself to nod.

Lola scrunched up her nose again, “you two are fucking disgustingly sweet,” Kit raised a brow and Lola chimed, “saw you two walking to the restaurant,”

Kit felt his cheeks warm as he recalled the way he had held her and kissed her, to reassure her. He didn’t think anyone would see.

“Anyway, you two are two fucking peas in a pod; both insane when in love,” Lola rolled her eyes, “I already told Em this but I’m taking dips on godmother when those sproglets start popping out,”

If possible, Kit felt his cheeks start to burn, “what?” he could not help the smile that bunched up his cheeks. _Our little muffin._ The image of Emilia, swollen and heavy with his child, was still vivid in his mind, “d-did she say anything about that?” Kit unwittingly sat straighter.

“Em always wanted a ridiculous number of sproglets,” Lola chortled, “as many as she can pop out, she said,” she snorted, “me on the other hand…I doubt mine will live past the first month-“ the rest of what Lola said faded as Kit turned in search of her. He found her, swaying to the music, her eyes now closed as she leaned her side against David.

Watching her now, he was filled to the brim with love. He knew she wanted children, as he did. But to know now, she wanted as many as she can have, she sounded like a dream to him. Kit smiled. It felt so easy to smile now that Kit could not understand how, for a time, he had found it difficult to.

He wanted to go to her. He wanted to tell her how happy she has made him. He wanted to hold her and dance with her.

It was then a soft melody started playing. A familiar one.

He watched her visibly pause in her swaying. Her eyes opened and he watched her scan the crowd for him. She found him quickly enough. When their eyes met, she smiled a smile so sweet he ached to hold her to him.

_Oceans apart day after day._

_And I slowly go insane_

_I hear your voice on the line_

_But it doesn’t stop the pain_

“Ah fucking hell,” Lola’s loud scoff broke through his reverie.

Kit turned back to Lola, flustered, “sorry, I was-“

“Get your fucking arse to her,” Lola rolled her eyes but there was a grin on her face.

Kit chuckled before he stood, his eyes on her, “excuse me,” he staggered as he knocked his knee painfully into the chair. He winced. When he met her eye again, Emilia was giggling at him but she was still, no longer dancing as she waited for him. He approached her, carefully stepping around tipsy, dancing people. When he came close enough, he could hear her singing softly along with the music.

_Wherever you go. Whatever you do._

_I will be right here waiting for you._

_Whatever it takes or how my heart breaks._

_I will be right here waiting for you._

Her voice sounded like it belonged to an angel and Kit wanted to fold her into his arms and yet did not dare to touch her; almost afraid he would taint her in some way.

“Kitten, get the fuck over here,” she said.

Kit laughed, his body instantly complying. She cuddled against his chest as he hugged her to him. He swayed her from side to side to the soft melody.

“Sing to me,” she demanded.

Kit chuckled. Burying his lips into her hair, he kissed her before he whispered, “oh can’t you see it baby,” she giggled, “you’ve got me going crazy,”

_Wherever you go. Whatever you do._

_I will be right here waiting for you._

_Whatever it takes or how my heart breaks._

_I will be right here waiting for you._

He felt tears prick his eyes as he combed his fingers into her now loose hair, taking in a deep, eager breath of her warm scalp. She smelled amazing; like lavender, like coffee, like home, “I wonder how we can survive this romance,” he sang in a whisper, his words only for her.

She pulled away to gaze up at him, whispering the words along with him, “ **but in the end if I’m with you, I’ll take the chance** ,” he smiled at the way her voice fell into harmony with his. A similarly wide grin was on her face and fighting the urge to kiss her, so publicly like this, Kit gently brought her hand up. He pressed a firm kiss to the ring tattooed on her pinky; a testament of her love for him on her skin.

He watched the way her eyes smiled so wide they were barely visible. As he gazed at her lovely face in wonderment of how someone like her could exist; how someone so _good_ could happen to him, her cheeks flushed. Before he could tease her, she crushed herself against him then, burying her pink face against his chest. He chuckled as he swayed them to the soothing melody.

Even when the song came to an end, Kit found it impossible to detach himself from her. He was lost around her, and he would not want it any other way. The next song came and went; and the next and the one after it. They held each other through all of it, neither making a move to part. They swayed, so oblivious that they might as well have been the only two people in this room, in this world.

Nothing needed to be said between them as they reveled in the warmth and smell of each other. Kit felt her take every slow breath against his own ribcage and before long, he found himself taking each breath with her. It was soothing, and incredibly comforting. Kit did not know he can ever feel such calm while feeling so connected to someone simply by being in their arms and them being in his.

He felt her shift her head so her ear was pressed to his chest instead. She tilted her head back and Kit followed her gaze towards the glass ceiling. An audible breath left her lips and Kit was in awe of what he saw. A blanket of bright stars painted the dark skies. It was clearly visible through the glass ceiling of the restaurant. He tore his gaze from the stars to watch her gape at the stars. Her bright eyes looked like they held the stars in them. Smiling, he ducked his head and kissed her on the corner of her lips.

She startled in his arms, instinctively jerking back.

When her eyes fell to him, she asked him with her eyes. _Is this okay? Are we truly okay?_ The disbelief in them, the silent plea for it to be so, was heartbreaking.

 _Of course._ Kit wanted to reply her without a moment’s hesitation. _Always._ He would’ve killed to be able to say that to her on this perfect day. But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t lie to her. So instead, he settled for: _Not yet. But soon._ Tears of frustration pricked his eyes but Kit did not want her to see his tears so he pulled her into a firm embrace. _Very soon. I promise._ He smoothed her hair as he shut his eyes against the regret.

“Thank you,” she whispered, pulling away to glance around, “for this. All of this, is amazing,” she smiled, her brows furrowing as if she couldn’t comprehend the sheer scale of this surprise, “and thank you, for you,” Kit faltered, a helpless smile on his face as he made to speak but she beat him to it, “I know you said to wait and I will. But thank you for choosing me again; even after I lost my way and even if you’re scared of what might happen in the future,”

 _I could never, nor will I ever, choose any different._ “You’re welcome,” Kit flashed her his cheekiest smile, “could never turn a fan down,”

Her hand came up to his chest, presumably to pinch his nipples, but Kit expected it and caught her hand with his own. She mocked a dark scowl but Kit could still detect the smile in her features. He grinned at her and he watched, pleased, as her scowl faltered, “prick,” she hissed under her breath.

Kit chuckled, reaching up to pinch her on the tip of her nose. She stifled a giggle as she tried, and fail, to glare up at him.

“Everyone!”

They both turned to see David standing on the chair, looking completely drunk. Kit was genuinely worried he would fall off.

“As you all know,” David announced, “it is my best mate’s birthday!” cheers chorused all around as everyone turned to look at Emilia. They released the other at once. Kit could not help but keep an arm around her back as he gazed proudly at her blushing face, “I heard she has had enough of cakes, so I figured, what better way to replace a cake than with… champagne!”

Cheers and hoots were heard all around, including from Emilia. Kit chuckled as David picked up a large bottle of champagne. As they started singing the birthday song for her, David started shaking the bottle. Emilia grinned, her face growing redder as she sang along with the crowd.

“Happy birthday to you…” the song came to an end.

“It ain’t dirty thirty if someone doesn’t walk out of here literally embodying champagne,” David’s grin was bordering on menacing when he asked Emilia, “so who would the birthday girl like to nominate?”

Before Kit knew what was going on, he was escorted to David by two heavy intoxicated blokes. But a glance at Emilia’s bright grin had Kit walking up to David, even if he was moaning the whole way. Before she could slip away, Kit grabbed her by her wrist and dragged her forward with him, “I thought you wanted me to slow down on the alcohol?” he teased her.

“Who said you’re drinking?” Emilia shot back with a grin.

All of a sudden, Kit heard a pop above him and he was drenched from over the top of his head with ice-cold liquid.

He howled.

Wiping his face of champagne, he sneaked a taste from his lips. He turned and he could see Emilia chugging from another bottle before it was passed around. She giggled to a mate nearby. In the background, Kit could hear more bottles of champagne pop open before a rain of champagne ensued, soaking Kit more thoroughly. In the chaos of cheers, Kit heard someone urge him to tilt his head back and open his mouth. Champagne gushed over him, most of it missing his mouth but before it stopped, Kit got a few mouthfuls.

He could hear Emilia’s distinct giggle and when he turned to her, she was beaming right at him. Grinning, Kit grabbed for her and her giggles turned to shrieks, “Kitten!” he hugged her to his side, all soaked, and kissed her hair. Glancing around to see everyone drinking and dancing in a rain of champagne, Kit gently held her chin and turned her towards him. He kissed her square on the lips.

He felt her lean closer to him, her hand coming up to rest lightly against his chest. She tasted of champagne and chocolate and love.

Much too soon, Emilia pulled away. Before he could voice his objections, he felt the tip of her warm tongue lick him on the corner of his lips; briefly but decisively. He watched, dazed, as said tongue disappeared into the hot, moist depths of her mouth. She swallowed the taste of him, rather deliberately and hummed her contentment, visibly satisfied with what she tasted.

But Kit was far from content. 

His stomach twisted and his throat tightened at the sight. With that simple act, she has ignited a deep, carnal desire in him for her; a desire to have her in every way he could have her.

Feeling the raw hunger for her gnaw at his heart, Kit pulled out his phone the moment Emilia slipped away to thank her friends who were leaving. Kit found her contact easily enough, for she was the last person he had texted. Angrily, his thumbs flew across the screen, typing a message for her; one in which he was the most honest he has ever been with her. He sent it, with Emilia Clarke being his one and only thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the love and support from the previous chapter is so amazing! Thank you guys so much :) I wrote so much that it became too huge a portion to be posted in one chapter - so will be splitting it again. 
> 
> About last chapter's question about going AU, I'm not going to spoil the decision but I would say, I'm sticking to my original plan. Hope you guys would like it anyhow! 
> 
> Anyway, I would love to hear how this chapter was for you guys so feel free to leave me a comment below! And who doesn't like a Kitten drenched from head to toe in champagne! ;)


	12. Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The birthday celebration continues. 
> 
> Fair warning, I will just say this is NC-17.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When this magic evening happened…. Buenas noches dulces suenos #sundaysleepingsoundatlast
> 
> \- Emilia Clarke (Instagram, October 2016)

_24th October 2016, Arteaga, Spain_

**Emilia**

“Don’t worry, we have rooms for tonight,” Mike patted her shoulder when she asked them if they needed her to make arrangements for them to get back. She raised a brow. The rooms in the castle, she imagined, were incredibly limited and it was surprising they could get a room at such short notice. Mike then told her, “Kit arranged some rooms in the castle for us who wants to stay over the night,”

She turned to see Kit sitting at the table, talking to the manager of the restaurant. She was in awe of him all night and even now, his sweet consideration _her_ friends touched her beyond belief. And she didn’t think it was possible but she loved the man more now, for all that he did for her and especially for her friends. Not one man she has been with has ever cared for her friends like that. In fact, she remembered getting into a row with one of her exes over how much she sacrificed for her friends. He couldn’t understand why she would do so much for her friends.

“Happy birthday Em,” Mike said as they hugged, “thanks for the invite,” he teased, knowing full well she did not invite them.

Emilia giggled, “no problem at all,” she joked. He chuckled as they parted.

“With a party like this, I guess you found your good ‘un,” Mike said so softly then Emilia thought she might’ve imagined it. But his smirk back at her as he dragged a drunk David with him out of the restaurant, told Emilia he has really said it. She giggled as she watched the last of her friends retreat for the night.

 _I did. I found him again._ She glanced over. _And I am never letting him go._

Kit met her eye. He said something to the manager before standing and shaking his hand firmly. Kit approached her with a softness in his eyes that Emilia didn’t know men, apart from her father, possessed. Her heart ached at the thought of her darling dad but Kit’s smile, the warmth and safety she found in his large hands, soothed her ache like a balm. He ducked his head and peered deeper into her eyes.

Words failed her and Emilia surprised herself when she was completely fine with that. With Kit, Emilia was beginning to realise the most intimate communication did not need to be spoken. Emilia smiled as she lifted a hand to brush aside a wet strand of his raven curl from his forehead. He was soaked with champagne, as she had teasingly requested and he has been a complete sport about it. Emilia knew he did this all for her and the almost constant melodious song from deep within her chest crested. She felt lighter than she has ever felt since her father’s passing and Emilia knew it was all because of the man before her now.

Kit smiled as he lifted a hand to take hers from his forehead in a gentle but firm grip. She squeezed his hand back as he lowered them. It seemed he didn’t need any words either as he led her out of the restaurant by her hand.

She followed him, noticing she had no idea where they were going next and she was almost at ease with that idea. Emilia had to admit, there was something freeing about not knowing where she was going and letting herself be guided. She did not allow herself to worry as she was mesmerised by the sight of his retreating back. No matter how well she knew him and his body, he still fascinated her like the first time. His shoulders were broad and sturdy. She could see the way his muscled back tensed through his soaked through shirt, as he walked. She has leaned on his shoulders and back numerous times in the past and they have never once let her fall; literally and metaphorically.

And yet, ironically, now she has fallen again and again. _For you._  

They came to their suite. Emilia was pleasantly surprised to feel that it was slightly warm when she would think a room in a castle without tapestry on the stone walls would be chilly. She glanced over to the side to see a heater placed in the corner and already switched on. As she marvelled once more at how sweet and thoughtful he was with her, Kit closed the door behind her and locked it. He smiled and made to pry his hand from her.

She teasingly held onto his fingers firmly. He furrowed his brows but chuckled when he realised she was being cheeky. When he finally managed to pull his fingers from her grasp, he left her where she stood. She watched him busy himself at the huge bathtub at the head of the bed. He switched on the tap and tested the temperature with his hand. The concentration he had on for that simple task was ridiculous and Emilia watched on amusedly.

A small, endearing smile lit up his gorgeous face when he presumably found the right temperature. He then proceeded to light three candles around huge tub with his lighter. Kit then turned out all the lights, save the one in the farthest corner by the vanity, and went to the dresser and retrieved three familiar looking bottles and a paper bag of things.

“Aren’t those mine?” she blurted.

Kit chuckled sheepishly, “yeah,” she followed him to the bath when he went, with those bottles and the bag in hand, “figured you would like these scents if you have a bottle of them,” _this smart man._

She sat by the tub beside Kit. His face screwed with concentration as he tipped the bath oils of rose, nutmeg and vanilla into the rising bath water. She dipped a hand in and it felt incredibly warm; just the temperature she always did her own. Emilia started developing a fondness for hot baths since work started getting more strenuous and this particular one, with the wonderful smell, the relaxing ambience, was almost as irresistible to her as the man before her.

Biting his lip, Kit retrieved a tub of milk from the paper bag. He poured the lot of it in and Emilia watched the way the milk swirled into the bath, turning the water a tantalising white. Then he pulled out a packet of flowers. Tossing them into the bath, Emilia watched them float on the milky surface. Her toes curled and her hand tingled, yearning to pull him to her and kiss him till he could not breathe. _When did you learn to be so romantic, Kitten?_

He seemed to be done when he put the paper bag away in the corner and turned to her. He hesitated, glancing once over the bath, before he met her eye. In the candlelight, there was something haunting about his beauty, especially his now onyx eyes that held some trepidation in them.

“Fancy a bath?” he blurted with an almost nervous chuckle.

Emilia giggled at how hesitant he became, “fuck yes,” she replied with a sigh.

His lovely face lit up as he grinned, “alright then,”

Watching him, she reached for the zipper on her dress. Her fingertips grazed her breast on the way to the zip. Kit’s eyes followed her hand almost obsessively for a moment and his adam-apple bobbed heavily. Then he turned away from her entirely. She chuckled at her own silly hope she still harboured that he would sod all his reservations and make sweet love to her tonight. Just the thought of it make her toes curl and her walls flutter.

Emilia understood Kit’s concerns and appreciated him for them but Emilia still found herself wishing he was without those worries and thoughts. They all came from opinions of inadequacy of himself and to her, after her own father and brother, Kit was the best man she knew.

With her dress off her, she quickly removed her bra and knickers.

“Here,” he muttered from behind her. She turned to see him holding a few towels, “no one wants cold tiles on their bare arse,”

She giggled and she heard him chuckle but he was obstinately averting his eyes from her. She took a warm towel from him and lay it on the tile before she sat down on it. Dipping a foot tentatively in the bath, she almost moaned at how nice and warm it felt. The milk was thick, creamy and smooth on her skin. She let both feet dangle into the water and she chased a petal of a flower with her foot before she could no longer resist and slipped into the tub.

A deep sigh left her lips as she sat down in the tub, the water coming up to her breasts. The scents wafted up to her and did wonders to relax her entire body under the warm milk. When her eyes opened, she saw Kit standing there, staring at her with awe in his eyes, “aren’t you coming in?” she asked, amused.

Kit blinked, as if the idea just came to him, “um…”

“Fucking wanker. There is no way you didn’t plan this without at least the thought of having a bath together on your mind!” she accused playfully.

Kit scoffed and rolled his eyes, “that’s all that was on my mind,” Kit muttered with a teasing smirk and Emilia giggled. She would have splashed the bath water on him if it didn’t feel so precious and heavenly on her skin and she didn’t want to waste even a drop of it.

“Pervert,” she teased, “come on, get your arse in. It feels amazing,” out of habit, she washed her breasts but instantly paused when she saw the visible effect that simple gesture had on him.

He sucked in a breath audibly. His eyes darted down and darkened, unblinking and almost obsessive as he stared. His lips parted just so and she could’ve sworn his cheeks were red. With the milk bath coming up to her breasts, Emilia was sure he could not see much of anything but with the look on Kit’s face, she thought he saw everything. She couldn’t help herself then as her eyes fell to his groin. Emilia could make out the outlines of a beginning of a bulge through his trousers. _Oh Kitten, I want you._ She swallowed a sigh as well as words of deep desire. Tempting him now in the name of teasing would be cruel, even for her.

“Kitten,” she called, amused.

He startled, blinking before he unbuttoned his shirt in a daze. She slid back until her back rested on the side of the tub and watched him peel the sodden fabric from his pale chiselled torso. His trousers sat low, hugging his hips. Emilia took in the deep slope of his hips and the dark trail of hair beginning at his belly button, both which disappeared into his trousers. A lump formed in her throat and her belly trembled as a wave of longing took root beneath her navel. Her mouth began watering as she thought she could now see the telling imprint on his trousers.

“ _Milly_ ,” he growled. She came back to herself to realise how intently she was staring at him.

“What?” she feigned innocence despite knowing she was making a poor case with her warm, probably red, cheeks and wide, dazed gaze.

“Don’t,” he said firmly.

“I’m not doing anything,” she droned, “I’m literally just sitting here,”

He fixed her with a withering look. Then his face melted, his eyes softening and his lips curve into a small smile, “do you remember when you told me you wanted a striptease for your birthday? And over the fucking phone,”

She remembered. A smile spread over her face as she recalled the moment. She had been apart from him for too long and was desperate for him, quite like the present. She had told him to touch himself for her on impulse then, “less a striptease and more porn, if I remember correctly,” she chimed. Then an idea came to her and she smirked, “can I ask for the same this birthday?”

Kit laughed, “so fucking greedy Clarke,”

“Oh come on, you’re already halfway there,” she giggled, waggling her brow as her gaze fell to his muscled abdomen, “be my pornstar, like Magic Mike but you can be Magic Kitten,” she lifted an arm from the water and rested her elbow on the edge of the tub.

She glimpsed his gaze flitter momentarily down to her breasts, the tops of which were visible now that her arm was out of the water. His resolve visibly weakened, “I see you’ve already decided on my pornstar name,” Kit rolled his eyes.

She choked as she burst into fits of laughter that was so intense, her middle was beginning to ache. 

A sigh of defeat left him but Emilia could see the edges of his lips twitch up. Kit huffed, “fine, for one night only,”

“For one night only,” she promised, even if she knew she would be heckling him for an encore whenever she wanted. Kit stood there awkwardly and she pursed her lips against a laugh, “get on with it,” she commanded, summoning all of Daenerys’ stoicism for this moment, “strip,”

Kit rolled his eyes, muttering something about being bossy before he schooled his face into a serious, seductive gaze. His hands brushed apprehensively across his muscled abdomen. She stifled a giggle at his hesitation and uncertainty. There was something endearing about how unfamiliar this is to him and Emilia wanted to pull him to her and hug him and kiss him. And maybe more.

Then his hands made it to his black trousers. He did not unbutton his trousers like she expected. Instead, his large hand covered his groin and he squeezed himself firmly through the fabric. A soft breathy sigh left him audibly and her cheeks burned. He began stroking himself through his trousers and it wasn’t long before he grew until Emilia could see the prominent outline of him. Her throat tightened, making it hard to breathe.

She stared. Just from the stark outline of him through his dark trousers, Emilia could see how he looked. On good nights, she used to dream of him, naked and hard for her. On best nights, she would feel him inside her and see him gazing down at her so lovingly her toes curled and she was gushing for him between her thighs even after she woke. She watched his fingers undo his belt, leaving it open before they unbuttoned his trousers and pulled down the zip slowly. The sound and anticipation of it made her heart speed up.

Her breath hitched in her throat when he pulled down his trousers and pants in one fell swoop, his hard length springing free from its confines. She forgot to breathe altogether as she drank in the sight of him. He was as she remembered from years before but even her most vivid dreams did not do his beauty justice. Every inch of her body coiled and tensed with a deep desire flowing from beneath her navel and into the bath. Between her legs, the emptiness gnawed at her, making her flutter fruitlessly under the warm milk bath. She watched him twitch towards his abdomen and her hand, with a mind of its own, crept between her legs.

Trying to soothe the ache, her fingers began stroking along her slit. She was engorged, wet and beside herself with lust. Her head was heavy, from desire or alcohol, she was no longer sure.

“Fuck,” he cursed when he stumbled while trying to remove his pants and trousers from around his ankles seductively. He managed to catch himself from falling into the tub, just barely.

Peals of laughter erupted from her. She crossed her legs, trying to tame the inferno between her thighs, “just get your arse in the tub before it gets cold,” she giggled.

Kit’s cheeks looked pink behind his beard as he tossed aside his clothes and made his way into the tub.

She bit her lips when he submerged into the milk bath, disappearing from her sight. She forced her gaze to meet his eye, finally, to see him already studying her. Embarrassed, she averted her eyes and began washing her arm, trying to ignore the throbbing between her thigh as she shifted uncomfortably against the floor of the bath. For a moment, she wondered idly if Kit would know if she fingered herself under the water, dying for even a little relief. _This is going to be a long, painful bath…_

“ _Fuck it_ ,” she heard him hiss before she heard and felt the sloshing of water in the tub. She looked up to him to see a blur of him lowering himself into the bath right in front of her. His warm hands cradled her face before she felt his lips crashed into hers unceremoniously. He took her lower lip thoroughly between his and sucked strongly as if he was trying to pull her into him.

A soft moan escaped her, “Kit-“ her words died in her throat when she felt his tongue brush the tip of hers. She matched his passion and vigour with her own, her fingers burying themselves into his wet curls. She heard a guttural grunt from the back of his throat as his hands slipped down to her waist. He pulled her closer but with them sitting cross legged, their knees bumped beneath the water instead and Emilia giggled, her lips curving against his.

He huffed a chuckle. Without preamble, his hands fell to and cradled her arse firmly. She yelped, clutching his shoulders to steady herself, as he carried her towards him. He deposited her into his lap with her legs on either side of him. He kissed her insistently as his hands squeezed her arse firmly, drawing a low moan from her, “you’re beautiful,” he whispered.

She scooted closer to him in his lap before crossing her legs around his waist. She could feel his stiff flesh between their abdomen, the base of it twitching against her swollen slit and Emilia wanted nothing beyond taking him completely inside her. She clutched his arms so tightly her nails dug into his warm skin as he eagerly devoured her heart she had offered to him from her mouth. She grinded herself onto him to feel his heavy sacks tighten against her. He groaned, so loudly one would think she was causing him actual, physical pain.

He pulled from her lips to place an opened mouth kiss on her collarbone, her chest, the top of her breasts. With her in his lap, her breasts were above the bath water. He gazed down at them for a moment, sighing before he eagerly took her stiff nipple in his mouth, teasing her with his tongue, “ _Kitten,_ what are we doing?” she whispered, her eyes closed, her back arched to push her erect nipples deeper into his warm mouth, her head tilted back towards the high ceiling. Her fingers tightened, grasping him firmly by the roots of his curls.

He sucked on her firmly, making her whimper before he let her go with a wet, audible kiss. He lifted his head to gaze upon her face. He looked intoxicated, his eyelids heavy, his curls in a magnificent mess, “I love you,” he choked out, his voice hoarse. The lovely sound of his voice had her fighting the urge to buck her hips against his, “I told her,” he panted, wide-eyed with desperation.

She froze, “what?” she breathed, “when?”

“In a text,” his eyes darted down distractedly to her lips before they searched her eyes.

“I thought you wanted to talk to her, in person,” she blurted.

Kit paused, his brows furrowed and worry bloomed across his face; worry that he has displeased her.

At the sight of the way his sweet face fell, Emilia hurriedly said, “I am happy that you told her. I just-“ she grasped around for the right words, not wanting to hurt him, “this is sudden,” she chuckled eventually. He chuckled along with her, albeit hesitantly. She smiled, resting her forehead against his as she considered the turmoil she felt within. It was a strange mix of euphoria, relief, uncertainty and then, the guilt.

“I couldn’t take it anymore,” he whispered, his lips brushing hers, “I watch you, so lovely, dancing around on the dance floor with your mates, having the time of your life. You are so wonderful. You chose me. And yet, I couldn’t give you the best; no matter how hard I try,” his voice hitched and Emilia hastily drew him to her in a tender hug. He sighed as he rested his dark head of curls on her chest, his arms encircling her waist.

“You do give me the best,” she told him softly, her nose against his hair, as her mind revisited the amazing day she has had thus far.

“Until I break it off with Rose, all I give you is danger; of having your reputation tarnished and your career-“ Kit broke off to nuzzle his cheek against her chest as if he could press himself closer to her, “until I texted her, when you were saying goodbye to your mates,” he pressed a kiss to her chest, “until now,” he drew back to look into her eyes as he uttered, “now I am yours,” his words, his voice, his eyes all drew her in and she couldn’t help but kiss him. A hand in his curls and the other cradling his bearded cheek, she tasted his lips as thoroughly as he tasted hers, “all of me, everything that I am. Even the fucked up-“

She silenced him with her own lips, “I want you,” she pulled his lower lip between hers for a firm, definitive kiss, “all of you. You are lovely,” she cradled his face between her hands as she gazed at the man beneath her. _My Kitten._ He was loving, kind, clever, witty, playful and gorgeous. He was also reserved, diffident, emotional, cynical, jealous and obstinate. _I want all of you._

Kit’s dark eyes welled up with tears even as a wide grin stretched his face, “You might regret it,” he practically mouthed it.

She huffed, “unlikely in this lifetime,” she leaned in to kiss him as he craned up in search of her lips. Their lips met with renewed passion, as if it was their first kiss and Emilia supposed it was fitting. He stiffened again between them as their kiss grew heated and they delved deeper into the other. She moaned when his fingers fell to her swollen bundle of nerves as his mouth busied itself at her breasts. His fingers massaged her rhythmically as his tongue and lips teased her, relentless.

Biting her lip, she reached for his nipple, tweaking it gently. She felt his breath quicken on her breast and his hardness twitch between them. She intertwined her arm around his to fondle his length as he stroked her. Her hand was trembling terribly from the crippling desire for him, “Milly,” he whispered, withdrawing from her. She forced herself to meet his eye. She felt his finger fall from her nub to stroke her slit tentatively. She knew he would feel her wetness. At the feel of his fingers at her entrance, she gasped, gripping the head of his stiff length desperately.

His eyes darkened.

With one last lingering caress, his finger left her to brush aside her hand and he took his length in hand. She licked her lips, placing her hand on the nape of his neck for leverage. She rose from him just enough for him to positioned himself. She felt the tip of him brush her entrance. Once. Twice. Desperate and unable to wait another second, she sank down onto him as he thrusted up to meet her, slipping into her.

Their loud moans filled the room, echoing off the high ceilings and bare walls as he slowly pushed deeper into her.

Pleasure shot to every inch of her body, congregated under her navel and her toes curled while her fingers gripped his hair. She tightened her legs around his waist. She felt him slide deeper so he was buried completely to the base, inside her. He filled her so wonderfully, fitting into her. As she marvelled at the way they seemed to be made just for the other, she felt him grow bigger and throb in her. He looked dazed as he gazed into her eyes and Emilia wondered if he felt the same way; if he felt they matched. She fluttered around him, so unbelievably close to falling from her peak already. His eyes slipped shut, a throaty groan leaving him, “gods, Milly please don’t do that,”

She giggled but quickly claimed his lips. His kiss was clumsy when she begun to roll her hips just slightly, unwilling to part from him more than necessary. She felt his hips bucking sharply under her as his hands wandered to her arse and her breasts, kneading her. He couldn’t seem to establish a rhythm as he moved. Nonetheless, the tip of him kissed the back of her each time their hips met. He grunted, pulled her closer and thrusted suddenly, slotting the swollen head deeper into her. It felt deeper than she thought possible; deeper than she has ever felt in her life.

Sheer pleasure unexpectedly seized and completely overwhelmed her. Starburst exploded across her vision and a loud wail slipped from her lips. Her mind blanked of all thought but of him fitting snugly inside her. Her body convulsed, jerking as pleasure shot through her abdomen before racing down to the tip of her toes. Her slick, quivering walls unwittingly gripped his throbbing length, squeezing him; desperate for more.

She heard him groan deeply into her ear and felt him swell unbelievably before he exploded into her. She could feel him filling her up, warming her from the inside. With every spurt, renewed waves of pleasure washed over her and her abdomen tremored from it. Her walls constricted greedily around his pulsing length as it expelled copiously. Her body felt unlike her own as it quivered and she moaned.

When she descended from her peak, she sagged, boneless, against him, powerless to move herself. It was pure bliss she found herself in when some semblance of sentience returned to her. His firm embrace was the first thing she felt and despite the state of her body, she felt safe and loved.

Their quickened breaths made their body rise and fall in time with the other. Their bodies, still firmly connected at their most sensitive areas, were flushed against the other; his forehead against hers. His solid frame trembled with her. Emilia leaned powerlessly against him and realised she did not ever want to move from where they currently were.

 _We could stay here forever, like this._ She wanted to tell him but her tongue refused to form the words. She couldn’t do anything beyond breathing yet. As much as that should frustrate her, Emilia felt utterly contented. Her eyes fluttered open and the first thing she saw made it hard to breathe.

His dark chocolate brown eyes were already gazing at her intently. The look in them was tender and incredibly loving. They were in such close proximity she could count his thick black lashes and see how his dilated pupils made his eyes darker than they are. She only wished she could see the lovely shade of brown in them. Emilia knew he was smiling when his eyes crinkled at the edges. _You are beautiful_. She smiled unwittingly along with him. He brushed the tip of his nose against hers. That simple gesture made her heated skin tingle, the sensation darting to all corners of her body. She giggled.

He chuckled at the sound. Emilia thought he sounded as giddy as she felt. It wasn’t a moment later before he groaned, “I cummed like a fucking teenager,” she giggled, so thoroughly amused by his dismay that her body shook from it, “very funny,” he sighed, “you are so fucking amazing,” he whispered, his thumb caressing small circles on her back and she melted into his touch and his warm body, “Milly, Milly, Milly, Milly,”

Her name sounded lovely on his heart-shaped lips; now looking wonderfully swollen from her kisses. She sighed, utterly content as she kissed him gently again. Thoughts of him filled her mind as he filled her body. _Kitten, Kitten, Kitten._ His name resonated in her head. His lips tasted sweet, like honey. His tongue, practiced, brushed and danced with hers. _My Kitten._ Teasingly, he sucked and held her tongue in his mouth, releasing her only when she giggled. Regaining some of her strength and wit to speak, she caressed the nape of his neck with the tips of her fingers and started with the first, easiest word to utter, “Kitten…” she whimpered, “I missed you, so much,” she leaned in to nuzzle her cheek to his. He hummed in agreement and contentment, the sound deep and reverberating from his chest made a shiver run down her spine.

Slowly, his arms loosened from around her as his hands splayed on her back. He stroked her back in soothing, long caresses. She could feel the roughness of his warm hands in the callous on his palm and her skin tingled upon his touch. It was then Emilia realised that she could recognise his touch. And it has been too long since she felt it. _It has been too long since we are together; truly together, like this._ A sigh left her lips as she relished the feel of sitting in his lap, his hands on her, her breasts against his chest, their cheeks pressed together, him still in her.

His hands wandered lower until they cradled her arse. She blushed as she felt herself fit nicely into the palms of his large hands. He kneaded her sensually. It was clear in his touch that he wanted more. The tension beneath her navel grew, moisture pooling from deep within her and she unwittingly clenched around him.

He groaned, “ _fuck_ ,” she massaged him and admired the way his beautiful face contorted with pleasure. His lips parted and he seemed to have lost the use of his nose as he panted though his mouth. Inside her, he twitched and began harden. Grinning, still massaging him methodically, she reached back under her searchingly. She found what she was looking for, warm, soft and surprisingly still heavy. She gently cupped them in her hands. He sighed haltingly, “that feels so good,” she was just beginning to caress them with her thumb when she felt his length throb in her, growing larger with every caress of his balls and every squeeze of her walls around him, “Milly, if you don’t stop that I am going to cum again,” he choked out.

She loved the sound of his voice when he was like this, she loved the look on his face as he said it, she loved the words he managed to choke out, “so cum for me,” she told him teasingly, not even bothering to pause in her ministration.

His brows rose before he growled, squeezing her bottom, “stop,” he grunted, visibly looking to be trying to hold it in. She did, stilling her fingers too. Because he asked her to. Then he groaned loudly in complain, “no, please don’t stop,” he looked pained. She laughed, deeply amused by how conflicted he was, “Milly, it’s _your_ birthday, not mine.” He sighed, “but it’s so fucking hard..-“ she constricted around him firmly, “h-h-hard to think with you doing- what you’re doing,” his eyes held some awe for her then as he said it.

She giggled, giving him another strong squeeze just to see him react, “it’s not my birthday,” she told him as his head lolled back, his eyes slipping shut. She wasn’t sure if he had heard her.

Until he replied, “it is, just a day late,” he panted to the ceiling, “so this is about what _you_ want, not what I want,”

Overcome with adoration for this sweet man, she replied huskily, bent on teasing him, “what if I want _all_ your cum for my birthday?”

He pulled his head upright with much effort to gaze dazedly at her. She felt him twitch strongly in her, stretching her to grow thicker, at her words, “I’d give all of it to you,” he moaned haltingly.

Smiling, she grasped his curls by his roots to pull his head back as she leaned down to nibble on his plump lower lip, “so give it all to me,” she whispered into his open mouth, “every last drop,”

“Milly-“ he protested half-heartedly but she was already rolling her hips. She watched the words die on the tip of his tongue. Kit craned his neck up to kiss her thoroughly as she established a steady rhythm with her hips. _You feel amazing._ Her legs tightened around his waist to gain leverage to move along his length as her toes curled from the sweet sensation of him sliding in and out of her, “not too fast. I’ll cum-“ he grunted.

“That’s the point,” she breathed, unwittingly fluttering around his throbbing girth. _I’m so close-_

“Not before you,” he managed to hiss out. She marvelled at the way she could feel him begin to get so incredibly hard he curved. The smooth swollen head of him repeatedly rubbed the sweet spot she loved. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head but she fought it. She wanted to watch his face screw up from trying to hold himself back; trying to fight his pleasure so she could find hers. She brought her hands to his chest, feeling the fine hairs around his small nipples before she tweaked them gently. He grunted.

“Kitten,” she whispered. She grabbed his hand from her arse and brought it up to cup her breast, “we match-“ she whimpered as he leaned down to tease her nipples with his tongue just the way she wanted. He grunted before his hips bucked uncontrollably, driving himself firmly against her pleasure spot, sending her over the edge. She cried her release.

“ _I love you, Milly,_ ” she thought she might’ve imagined it as she convulsed around him, her body trembling helplessly. She came back to him to realise he had stilled while she came, only pleasuring her with his tongue and fingers to prolong her pleasure. _My silly Kitten…_ she supposed he must have guessed what she thought by seeing her expression for he chuckled, almost sheepish as he explained, “I don’t ever want this to end,” 

Her heart swelled, “we have all night,” she promised, now desperate to feel his release, for him to fill her.

“I’m not sure I can,” a helpless smile crossed his face, “I’m not that young anymore,”

“You can,” she kissed him roughly, “I’ll make sure you can,” she grinned and nipped his lips, hard. He groaned in pain and pleasure. With that, she felt him relax and she reached back to massage his soft velvet sacks. They were heavier than before. He moaned, the sound emerging from deep within his throat. The weight of them left her hand as they tightened closer to the base. She rocked her hips; once, twice and his release came. He clutched onto her and buried his face into her breasts, grunting as his body heaved in time with each strong spurt.

The sensation of him spilling into her; warm, copious and definitive, was extremely pleasurable and the tension below her navel peaked and snapped. Surprised, she cursed as pleasure gripped and wrecked her body, “oh _fuck,_ ” he growled.

They sat there for a long moment after, trying to catch their breaths. He throbbed and Emilia thought she could feel his veins pulsing against her walls, in time with his heart. _The heart that is mine._ She laughed breathily. _All of him, is mine._ With great effort, she wrapped her arms around him to hug him weakly. Her legs were shaking around his waist, limp in the water.

“ _Fucking hell,”_ he swore into her breasts, still panting. He kissed her breasts before he withdrew, gazing up at her with awe in his heavy-lidded eyes, “I love you,”

She giggled, “oh is it because-“

“you can do that thing around my knob,” Kit finished for her. She mocked a scowl, “ _that_ is fucking amazing. Gods,” he hugged her and nuzzled his face into her chest. She stared, stunned at how affectionate he was being, “I love you,” he gushed, a teasing lilt to his voice.

“Fuck off,” she giggled, shoving him at the shoulder weakly.

“You didn’t do that before,” he ignored her, pulling away to look at her, “why didn’t you?”

She blushed, “didn’t know I could,” she muttered.

“I knew there was a reason I wanted to make you cum for me,” Kit laughed, his eyes crinkling and his laugh lines around his mouth emerging. As much as she wanted to hit him before, she wanted to hug and kiss him now, “we really were young then, weren’t we?” he smiled, reminiscing fondly.

“You weren’t as talented with your tongue then,” she shot back.

He grinned, “you’re saying I’m talented with my tongue,” he looked so pleased with himself one would think she praised him for something more. Without preamble, said tongue darted out to skim across her chin decisively. She shrieked, shying away but he chuckled and followed her obstinately, licking her across her cheek before he got to her lips. His arms tightened around her, stopping her escape. Blissfully trapped against the man she loved, her tongue darted out to fend his away.

He barked a laughter so loud it startled her. Before long, they found their tongues completely immersed in playfully battling the other for dominance. She giggled and withdrew when he made to take her tongue into his mouth and presumably trap her again.

“Don’t go, come here,” he grinned, taking her lower lip between his and gently sucked on it. She gasped, the sensation making her body coil with pleasure. He then licked her across her moist lip. She made to kiss him back but before she could, he withdrew from her completely. She felt his hands hold her under her arse firmly and he stood, lifting her completely from the cold bath, still in her. She squeaked, her legs tightening around his waist and her arms around his neck, “don’t be afraid,” he whispered, kissing her on her cheek, “I’ve got you,”

A sweetness bloomed in her chest, making her shiver, as she heard his familiar words, “I know,” she pursed her lips against a smile, “I’ve always known,” she pressed soft kisses all over his face as he walked them to the edge of the bath. As she pressed a kiss to his beard, he knelt in the tub and lowered her carefully on the towel already laid out on the tiles by the tub. He pulled himself, now completely soft, from her and she whimpered in protest at the lost of him.

He chuckled. He doesn’t move from his position between her legs as he caressed her thighs to soothe her. She watched his hands travel down her thighs, brushing her knees before cradling her calves. She could see the remnants of the milk bath on her skin, beading and dripping from her, not unlike how she could feel his thick release slowly flowing to her entrance. He nudged her to lay back on the towel and she complied, suddenly shy at the way his gaze raked hungrily across her body, lingering at her breasts. His fingers kneaded her calves gently before they proceeded to her ankles. He smiled at her before bringing her ankles up to prop them on his shoulders. He turned and peppered them with intimate kisses. She blushed at the sight of her ankles propped up on each of his shoulder, her legs spread for him.

Leaving her legs across his shoulders, Kit gently traced her curves, “are you cold?” he asked, his voice hoarse. His hands settled on her hips. The water was tepid by the time he pulled her from it.

“No,” she realised, the heater warmed up the room very well. _And you warmed me up plenty._

“Good,” he smiled. His hands wandered to her abdomen, his arms circling her legs as he lowered himself. With his hands splayed below her navel, he kissed her over her mould and she clenched, feeling achingly empty. Her legs, still over his shoulders, her feet on his back, lowered with him and Emilia felt his thick release seep from her. His eyes darted down and he stared. She could feel it trail a path down to her arse, “you are so beautiful,” he gazed up at her.

“With your cum dripping out of me?” she bit her lips, grinning cheekily.

He chuckled, “even more so,” he sighed before he dove down. His lips encompassed her hooded nub and she bucked at the electrifying sensation but his hands steadied her. His eyes were fixed on her as he sucked at her bundle of nerves, sending shocks straight to her toes, making them curl.

“Kitten!” Emilia cried, feeling moisture start to pool in her and seep from her. His tongue lapped her clean before returning to tease her now swollen nub relentlessly, “Jesus Christ,” she gasped. Her legs started to tremble, her walls pulsing. His lips covered the sensitive nub of nerves suddenly and he sucked. Her vision flashed white momentarily and she writhed atop the towel, thrashing about for any sort of relief from the overwhelming sensation that gripped her body. He took in her release eagerly, holding her trapped against him until she sagged against the towel.

When she giddily gazed down to him, she saw him grinning up at her. Keeping eye contact, he teasingly licked the nub. Sharp electric shocks shot down her legs, her centre throbbing painfully. She threw her head back and shrieked, her legs trying to close to stop anymore stimulation but it was impossible with his head between her thighs. She could’ve sworn she heard him chuckle. _Bastard._ Before she could swear at him and beg him to give her some rest, his lips covered her clit, his tongue darted out and her eyes rolled to the back of her head.

A raw moan tore itself from her throat, her body quivering and begging for a release and yet was utterly fearful of it. His fingers joined his talented tongue, gently plunging in and out of her sopping entrance. She clenched around him, already missing what she knew was perfectly shaped to fill her. She was a moaning mess by the time his practiced fingers curled, pushing and applying just the right amounts of pressure to tip her over the precipice. She fell, crying out and cursing the mind-boggling amounts of pleasure he was giving her.

When she returned to her sorry excuse of a body, she was utterly relieved to feel Kit’s solid form atop her. His arms were wrapped around her shoulders, his hand cradling her head to his chest. His stomach was pressed securely to hers, his body completely shielding her.

“Kitten,” she whimpered, her heated body feeling incredibly sensitive and bordering on pain. And she couldn’t move even if she tried. Emilia couldn’t remember the last time she came so many times.

“I’m right here,” he whispered into her ear, “I’ve got you,”

She hummed, trying to slow her breathing at least. She relished the feel of his deep even breaths, adoring the feel of his body lightly moving in time with it. She only wished she could hear his heart but her own racing one very nearly deafened her of all sounds. She could feel her walls still convulsing uncontrollably from the aftermath, aching to be filled and yet too sensitive to take more as it wept copiously, “ _fuck,_ ” her body shuddered unwittingly.

“You alright?” he whispered, concern lacing his tone now.

“This is all your fucking fault,” she croaked out.

Kit laughed, “you’re welcome,”

“Where the fuck is your cock?” she spat, panting. She gasped when she felt him against her. But instead of impaling her, he slid along her moist slit, his hot flesh already rigid. Her hips jerked up to him in response.

“Here,” he teased, his hips thrusting slowly, letting his swollen tip brush her engorged nub. She yelped, trying to squirm away but he held her in place, “tell me what you want,” he whispered, “it’s still your birthday,”

She licked her lips. Straining to reach his ear, she took his soft earlobe between her teeth before she whispered, “I want your cock in my mouth,”

His breathing picked up audibly and he tensed against her. It was evident he hadn’t expected that.

“I want to suck you off until you cum,” she continued.

A halting groan slipped from his lips, “Milly…”

“I want to taste you on my tongue,” she trailed her tongue across his ear. She felt his length twitch against her, utterly excited, “someone’s excited,” she teased.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he whined.

Grinning, she moved tentatively to find that she could move. She pushed him off of her and sat up. Her body felt heavy, like she was drunk. And in a way, Emilia supposed she was; she was drunk on him and the love he had showered upon her. She watched Kit unsteadily crawl to drain the now cold bath water. He switched on the tap in the bath and tested the temperature. He washed off with the water from the tap. Emilia joined him, teasingly brushing against his swollen head as she did. She did so enjoyed hearing him suck in a sharp breath every time she touched him.

She reached for a spare towel Kit had left by the tub and brought it to his face. Kit chuckled as she dabbed his face gently. He reached for another towel and wrapped her in it. The large white towel was soft and warm on her skin. She dried his neck, his shoulders, his arms, his back and abdomen. When she came to his solid length she wrapped the towel around it before fisting and stroking him tentatively.

“Mils-” he groaned, his hand wrapping around her wrist. But instead of tugging her away, his hand squeezed her wrist gently, his thumb caressing her. She smiled before pulling the towel away. His length sprung free and she brought the towel between his thighs, gently sponging his sack dry. He sighed happily. She quickly dried his legs before snatching the towel from around herself that he left there and dried herself. Kit managed a sheepish smile but before he could apologise, she tossed both towels into the corner and turned towards the bed.

When she crawled to and sat down in the middle, she saw Kit walking towards her, gazing at her in a daze. He stood at the edge of the bed, seeming at lost. She giggled, “come here,” she pulled aside the blanket and patted the bed. Kit obliged, his eyes never leaving her.

“You are gorgeous,” he murmured, his eyes soft and sincere.

Her cheeks warmed at the compliment from the one man who meant everything to her, “keep it up and I’ll definitely drink all your cum,”

Kit chortled unexpectedly, making her giggle, “your mouth is filthy,” he chided gently.

“You love it,” she rebuked, smug and sure.

“I do,” he brushed a finger across said mouth. He slipped two fingers past her lips and she swirled her tongue around him, sucking him. She could’ve sworn she tasted herself on his finger. A tingle was felt below her navel and she blushed at the thought of the same fingers inside her just moments before, “mmm,” he withdrew his finger before he leaned closer to kiss her.

Their kiss was languid, a slow dance of their tongues. Kit’s hand gently caressed her thighs. His hand wandered between her legs but she gripped his wrist before he could begin his ministration, stopping him. He pulled away to meet her eye, confused. She shook her head before wordlessly removing his hand from her, “I told you what I want,” she reminded him.

His confusion ebbed away to be replaced by disbelief as she pushed him to lay back against the pillow. He relented but only to lean back onto his elbows. His eyes followed her, almost obsessively, as she reached towards his abdomen, where his semi-hard length lay. She splayed her palm onto his hips, tracing the line of it before skimming across his muscled abdomen. She watched his neglected length twitch pitifully as she intentionally skip over it. He swallowed an audible whimper.

“The legendary abs,” she teased, “has women across the globe wet for you,”

Kit chuckled, “I only want one woman wet for me,” he stared at her fixatedly, an intent, unwavering gaze.

“She is,” she assured, a light blush coloured her cheeks as she admitted.

Kit held her gaze a moment longer before he swallowed audibly. His gaze fell as his hand made to reach for her and presumably to feel it for himself.

“Nuh uh,” she shifted away, “no touching,”

“Why?” Kit groaned, “that’s torture,” he protested, his eyes darting to the spot between her thighs longingly. She fixed a stern gaze to him, her hand stilling on his abdomen, threatening to leave him entirely. Eventually he sighed in defeat, “oh alright,” he muttered, pulling his hands away from her and tucking them under the pillow beneath his head.

She smirked, “good,”

“For how long?” he complained.

She trailed her nail over the slit of his red, swollen head, watching it twitch wantonly before she replied, “until I beg you to touch me,” he groaned agonisingly.

* * *

 

He was trembling under her intensely, so much so Emilia felt worried for him for a moment.

She had teased him relentlessly. He had moaned until he was hoarse and begged her to let him finish. His throbbing length was incredibly hard, the swollen head almost purple, and his sacks were aching before she finished him in her mouth. He was still hard then so upon his weak nod, she rode him through her own release, until his legs shook and he cried her name. He was true to his promise and did not touch her through it all, except when she had wailed and collapsed weakly onto him.

And this was where his arms stayed, cradling her protectively to him. Adjusting herself with herculean effort, she pressed her ear to his chest. His heart was racing his chest, a thrum rather than beats. She chuckled, her fingers caressing the fine hairs around his nipple. He was limp beneath her as his length softened inside her.

Her body, finally feeling somewhat satiated, was immensely relaxed. The room smelled like roses, vanilla and their love-making. She turned her head and with her nose to his skin, she took in the smell of him; sweat, nutmeg, from the bath oil, and a woody scent that Kit always had. He smelled like home. She hummed, kissing him where she lay before snuggling closer to fill her senses completely with his smell.

“I love you, Kitten,” she whispered, “I want you. I want to be married to you, I want to be your wife. I want to have a home with you. I want to have a family with you. _That’s_ what I want for my birthday, and all my birthdays to come,”

He was quiet, his breathing now evened out.

Frowning in puzzlement, she shifted. Gazing up at him, he was fast asleep. She paused. _Has he really fallen asleep so quickly?_ He seemed completely out cold. His lips under his moustache was, however, turned up just slightly at the corners. She admired his lovely face a moment longer, searched for and kissed him on the mole on his lips before pulling the duvet over their nude bodies. _You’ve fallen asleep while still inside me._ She mused.

An idea came to her and she bit her lips as she gently massaged his soft length, wondering if he would wake. He began to harden just slightly but he barely stirred. She considered the idea of making love to him anyway until he woke but decided against it when she wondered if he would like that. Reluctantly, she shifted till he slipped out of her.

She winced when she felt copious volume of thick cream fluid begin to leak from her, “my god,” she swore. Not wanting to soil the sheets, she hopped from the bed and ran to the bathroom. She grabbed a towel and quickly wiped herself between her legs before wiping herself on her thigh where the fluid got to. She folded it and cleaned herself more thoroughly between her legs. _Kitten…_ she giggled when more leaked from her. _You are unbelievable._ When she was done, she decided to relieve herself.

She cringed, feeling sore and sensitive. She knew she would feel him inside her even tomorrow. Her chest swelled at the thought. When she was done, she cleaned herself up and stood. Snatching up another clean towel, she made her way back to the bed to clean Kit up. That was when she froze.

_My pills._

She hasn’t been taking her pills. She hadn’t expected for this so soon, what with Kit being pretty determined to end it properly with Rose before they did anything. So she hadn’t kept up with her pills and had left it in her luggage since she came for season 7.

Instead of feeling a cold feeling of dread, her heart sped up; singing as her mind began to comprehend the implications. Her chest expanded so much so she thought she would explode. Her grin stretched her face. Her breath caught as she gazed down at her flat abdomen. Her trembling hands caressed across her skin, wondering if a little life would form in there in a month or so. She imagined feeling a solid bump there, one that would grow so big she wouldn’t be able to see her feet.

“Oh Kitten…” her eyes welled with tears and she fled from the bathroom. She made her way to the bed to see Kit still sleeping. She lay down beside him, shaking him, “Kitten,” he did not stir, “Kit,” she shook him harder. He murmured incoherently but did nothing beyond that, “Kit!” he murmured something again before he settled back to sleep, a soft snore coming from his throat. She watched him sleep through her tears, “we could be having a baby,” she whispered to him, “I know it’s too early to say but…” she recalled the feel of him finishing inside her, many times and how her abdomen clenched, sucking him in eagerly, “would you like that? Would you like us to-“ she choked as emotions gathered thickly in her throat, “to have a baby together?”

He snored and she chuckled through her tears. Reaching for him, she brushed the back of her knuckles across his cheek. She admired his sleeping visage, wondering if their baby would have his eyes, his nose, his lips, his chin, his cheekbones or his curls. Truthfully, Emilia would want their baby to have all of that so he or she would be gorgeous then. If it is a boy, Emilia wanted him to have Kit’s voice too; one that sounded so strong it could carry across distances and yet be incredibly soft and gentle. She searched amongst the sheets for his hand.

His hand was warm and Emilia felt the roughness of it for a moment before she pulled it to her abdomen, “you’d laugh at me if you were awake,” she shook her head, chuckling weakly, “I know I’m being silly…” she rubbed the back of his hand across her tummy, “but what if? Would you be happy? You’d be a father…” she murmured. _A wonderful father._ Her face lit up as she imagined Kit’s large hands gently cradling their baby as he tickled the child’s cherubic face with his thick beard and long curls. She imagined his laughs and the way his eyes would light up when their little baby giggled happily in his arms, “you would be so silly,” she imagined the faces he would pull, the lengths he would go to make their baby the happiest, “and you’d spoil him, or her,”

She laughed as she gazed around at the large luxurious room he had booked for her. She could only imagine how much more he would do for their child; probably buy the entire castle for him or her. It was then Emilia glimpsed the sky outside the windows lightening.

 _We’ve made love through the night._ She smiled when she realised, “Kitten,” she splayed a hand over his heart, “you have made me the happiest woman who have ever lived,” she smiled before tucking her head against his shoulder, snuggling as close to him as she could, “do I make you happy? Even a fraction of how you’ve made me?”

He only snored in response and she giggled, kissing his shoulder and everywhere she could reach. She felt incredibly knackered as she watched the sunrise through the small window but Emilia could not bring herself to sleep. She did not want this to end. She did not want to know what the next day could bring. She wanted to simply stay here forever. She wanted things to be like this, just the two of them, for the rest of her life.

Her eyes were growing heavier as she listened to his snores and gazed at the lightening sky. Suddenly, Kit shifted beneath her. He rolled over towards her so he was laying on his side. Her head slid off his shoulder to end up on the pillow. She smiled when Kit snuggled his face into the crook of her neck, his arm coming up to drape over her tummy and his leg resting over her leg and his feet hooking around her calf. _So fucking clingy._ Adoration for this man filled ever corner of her heart. She turned to him happily, expecting him to be awake but a second later, his snoring resumed.

She tried and failed to stifle her giggle when Kit snored directly into her ear, “Thank you Kitten, I love you too,” she said, to no one in particular. She lay there, caressing his arm across her tummy; basking in the feel of his warm body against her and the sound of his constant rhythmic snores. She was beginning to grow sleepy, getting used to his snores. Then suddenly, she startled from sleep by a loud distinctive fart from across the bed. She did giggle then. _Great, just great._ When her amusement finally quelled, she told him, “thank you for not farting in my face this time,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References to the Second Verse (Chapter 1) when Emilia asked Kit to touch himself for her birthday. 
> 
> Well... kind of the chapter many of you have been suffering through the past few chapters for. Hope you enjoyed it! Do let me know what you think in the comments ;) 
> 
> Oh and do feel free to let me know if you are looking forward to reading anything in the next few chapters with regards to events in 2016 onwards! 
> 
> Have a happy Sunday ;p


	13. Bilbao

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: none of the photos are my own. If they are yours and you want to be credited, please drop me a comment to let me know! (Yes, Emilia Clarke included, if you read this ;) )

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While [Kit and Emilia] were filming in Spain, they would frequently eat breakfast together at an out-of-the-way cafe. Just the two of them. They also had dinner together a few times. Just the two of them. The server told me that they had been in there a couple of times that week for breakfast…It definitely looked like a date to me. Instead of sitting across from each other, they were sitting next to each other. While I didn’t see them kissing, they were only a couple of inches apart and they were very touchy and leaning in and whispering and giggling with each other. The body language definitely said that they were more than friends. 
> 
> \- Blindgossip (2016)
> 
> @thechemicalbrothers know how to get this cast on its FEET... bringing that badass beat to Bilbao baby.  
> All the love to @nathalieemmanuel my girl never leaves a bredren in da club... #shinyhappysweatypeopleparties
> 
> \- Emilia Clarke (Instagram, 2016)
> 
> Couldn't resist a mutual appreciation society photo... EPIC NIGHT!  
> #jonsnowknowshowtorockouttochemicalbrothers #chemicalbrothersknowshowtothrowdown #motherofelectroletherwigdown @nathalieemmanuel #donttouchmygirlshairnow! 
> 
> -Emilia Clarke (Instagram, 2016)

_31 st October 2016, Bilbao, Spain. _

**Kit**

He woke from a dreamless slumber. He felt rested but it was so comfortable where he was he did not want to move, much less get up. Prying his eyes open, he found himself on his back, a thick white duvet over his nude body. He turned to see a head of brown hair by his shoulder, a familiar sight by now. He smiled drowsily before engaging in his morning habit of leaning down to steal a whiff of her scent from her scalp.

She smelled like warm lavender, from her pillow spray, a hint of her jasmine shampoo and a scent that was _Milly_. Kit could not describe it if he tried. He only knew that it was _her_ and her scent was fast becoming something he could not do without every morning. And when she just woke or when she has yet to, was when that scent was the strongest. Unable to resist, he leaned down again to nuzzle his nose into her hair and breathed her in. The smell made him feel loved, safe and so simply happy – to be where he was, to be home.

He shifted his body to stretch only to feel a comforting weight, softness and warmth on his crotch and a heavy weight on his leg. Blearily, he peered under the duvet to see her small soft hand cupping his bollocks, his morning wood stiff over his belly button. His legs were spread, the leg closer to her bent so his knee was sandwiched between hers. He chuckled as he remembered how it ended up with him falling asleep with her hand on his crotch.

_“Your feet are freezing!” Kit complained when Emilia dove onto the bed, snuggled under the covers and wedge her toes against his legs. He had showered first upon returning to her hotel room after their Chemical Brothers’ concert and was laying under the duvet waiting for her by the time she emerged from the shower._

_She did not move her feet from his leg, “you know what else is freezing?” she teased. Kit did not have a chance to reply before she placed her cold hand on his bollocks and soft cock. He howled, jumping and trying to squirm away. She giggled raucously. Her other freezing hand_ _tucked itself under his warm body as her knees firmly clasped one of his leg between them, keeping him trapped on the bed, “this wouldn’t happen if you bothered to wear some clothes to bed,” she said cheekily._

_Kit rolled his eyes, “you know I love sleeping naked,”_

_She grinned, “I love you sleeping naked too,”_

_He grinned back, “I would love it if you slept naked too,” he tugged longing at the thin strap of her camisole and peered down the low hanging front to glimpse her ample cleavage. The swell of her breasts looked beautiful. He loved it. He also loved the exquisite ridges of her bare shoulder and collarbone. But looking and merely at what was revealed to him wasn’t nearly enough. His hand crept over to slip into her camisole._

_She giggled, “cheeky bugger,” she slapped his hand away gently, “if I do, we wouldn’t be sleeping much, would we?”_

_Kit reluctantly withdrew her hand, “not fair,” he moaned as he glanced down meaningfully to her hand, still cupping him, “why can’t I touch you?”_

_“Because you will want more after and I’m tired,” she said, her eyes already half-closing. Kit honestly did not blame her. They have had a long two full days of touring the city, making love into the early hours of the morning before waking up and making love some more before starting the day. And tonight, she had just tired herself out by dancing all through the concert, “I am holding you for warmth,” she paused, “and comfort,” she smiled, almost looking shy to admit it._

_Kit chortled, “comfort?” he gazed at her, wondering how she could look even more beautiful after her shower; without all the make-up. There was a softness to her eyes, her pink pillowy lips, a glow in her skin and her thick soft lashes._

_“Yes,” she replied simply, her small soft hand unmoving on him. Kit quietly contemplated the very likely possibility of missing a night of love-making; the very first since the incredible night in the castle. The thought of it gnawed at him and for a moment, Kit wondered if he would survive this one night without being inside her; what every inch of his body yearned for in his waking hours through the day. And now in bed, his heart and body was coiled in anticipation for exactly that._

_He gazed into her eyes. They were brimming with a sort of softness that Kit felt he would be happy to drown in. And in that moment, Kit felt contented just looking at her. He smiled as he reached for her fondly. His fingers came to her little face and Kit gently brushed her jawline with the back of his fingers. He watched her eyelids flutter close, concealing her lovely eyes from him, so he settled to study her face. He brushed his fingers across her cheek, her brow, her nose then to her smiling lips; her wonderful lips. He gently brought his thumb across her full lower lip, marvelling at how soft it was as he wondered if he could sneak a taste without disturbing the quiet serenity._

_She kissed the pad of his thumb. Without opening her eyes, she murmured, “kiss me goodnight, Kitten,” he hesitated, wondering if she knew he was contemplating the exact same thing, “I know you want to,” she whispered softly._

_He chuckled, “you’d know,” he said gently before he leaned down to peck her on her lips, lingering yearningly._

_“I want to kiss you before I sleep every night,” she murmured, on the verge of sleep and Kit wondered if she would remember what she said tomorrow morning, what he could have sworn he had once dreamt to be able to do._

_“We can do that,” he whispered, taking her lower lip between his lips this time and gently worrying the soft flesh fondly, “everyday,” he smiled, his heart swelling to fill his chest so wonderfully at the thought. Kit pulled away then to see the sweetest, most beautiful, smile on her tired face. He gazed at her until her breathing evened out and her smile faded to a small, barely noticeable one. Kit watched her sleep until he himself got drowsy. Snuggling his face into her hair, he followed her into a deep slumber, hoping he could follow her into her dreams._

Kit shifted as her hand on his bollocks began to feel uncomfortably arousing. Unwittingly, he shifted his hips, wishing her fingers would begin to gently massage him like he knew her talented fingers could. Kit would kill to feel her warm, moist tongue on them now, pleasing him as she teased him. He turned to his side to see her still fast asleep, “have I tired you out?” he smiled as he gazed at her, listening to her soft, deep breaths. There was a sort of calm that washed over him as he watched her sleep; so safe and at peace.

She stirred, her nose crinkling and Kit’s heart leap to his throat in anticipation but instead of waking, her hand slipped from his groin. Kit had to swallow a deep groan of dismay as he watched her turn from him entirely. In one movement, the duvet disappeared from atop him and the cold air stung his warm skin. Kit blinked.

 _Fucking hell. Not again._ Kit turned onto his side and curled up to try to keep warm as he gazed at the back of her head. _One of these days, I’ll figure it out._ Emilia has stolen his portion of the duvet on more nights than Kit would prefer. Some mornings, he would wake up freezing as Emilia had rolled over in her sleep, clipping the duvet under her or wrapping it around her leg.

Kit did what he usually did and squirmed closer to her, pressing the front of his body to the back of hers; trying to get some warmth. As he tucked himself to be the big spoon, he tried to ignore the way the cold air pricked his arse. Goosebumps erupted across his skin and he shivered, muttering about how punishing sleeping with her sometimes turned out to be.

Despite the cold, he smiled at the way her shapely bottom fit right on the crook of his crotch, the length of her thigh ran over the length of his so his knee fitted against the back of hers. _Like two pieces of a puzzle._ He snuggled his nose into the back of her neck, parting her hair. He kissed her on the nape of her neck sweetly as he wrapped his arm around her; hugging her along with the duvet.

She shifted and a soft moan from the back of her throat told him she was waking. He loved the little sounds she made when she woke. As adorable as it was, it was a huge turn-on, making his morning wood stiffen even if it was softening. Kit craned his neck, perking up happily, eager to have his portion of the duvet back. But she did not turn to greet him as she usually did. Instead, slowly but surely, her soft shapely arse started rubbing against his groin.

Kit hissed as his hips bucked towards her automatically. Her hips gyrated on him and Kit pulled aside the duvet to press himself to her knickers-clad arse. Looking down, he could see the red, swollen head of his knob peeking up at him from between her bum cleavage as she rubbed along his throbbing length. _Tease._ He grunted when her fingers tugged on her knickers to reveal her pale, round arse cheeks to him. Those fingers reached back and guided his length between her legs, into her knickers.

He groaned as his stiff twitching flesh slipped between her still-closed thighs, rubbing along her hot, wet and engorged slit. _Milly, you’re so wet..._ He grasped her arse firmly, his fingers digging into her soft flesh as he thrusted into her knickers. He leaned closer, burying his face into the nape of her neck. Finding warm, sweet skin, he kissed her possessively, knowing that would leave a bruise.

A gasp escaped her, the sound of it making his length twitch in her knickers, against her slit. She sighed audibly as she reached back to grab his arse. She squeezed him firmly in her palm, her nails digging into his skin as she urged him closer. He groaned, longing to be completely buried in her.

He reached down and pulled her knickers off her, down to her thigh. As she wiggled her knickers down to her ankles and tried to kick it off, he reached around her searchingly to find her breast, peaked with already stiff nipples. He smiled, rolling them gently between his index finger and his thumb. She draped a leg lazily over his in silent invitation and Kit pinched her through her camisole. _My filthy girl._

She moaned, arching her back and thus, pressing her breast into his hand as her arse raised to him. He took his aching hardness in his hand, rubbing the head of him against her sopping slit. The hand she had on his arse tightened and he positioned himself before thrusting. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as her slick, velvet walls parted audibly for him before embracing his thickness so tightly. _Gods!_ He gritted his teeth, fighting the urge to spill his load that instant. _She feels so fucking good._ With one hand on her breast, the other gripped her thigh that was draped over his hips.

Her walls pulsed and constricted around him, sucking him in so eagerly it felt near impossible for Kit to pull back for another thrust. She cried out her pleasure every time he thrusted into her again, the skin of his hips slapping her bottom. Her fingers tightened on his arse so firmly that Kit was sure her nails digging into his flesh would leave a mark. When her walls started fluttering around his girth, Kit knew she was close.

Playing with her breast with one hand, his other slid along her thigh to find her swollen nub. She was spread wantonly over him as he thrusted. The tips of his fingers brushed where they joined, feeling their moisture gathering and seeping from her. Gathering it, he stroked her bundle of nerves. She jerked so vigorously then, he slipped out of her. Both of them chuckled, panting, as Kit quickly rectified the situation, thrusting back in quickly to make up for it.

Her moans soon became louder and more frequent and she began to get so wet he almost slipped out of her again. Her walls grew tighter around him, squeezing him as if begging him for his release. With a loud wail, they clenched strongly around him, fluttering. He felt like her walls were coaxing him deeper and he groaned as he buried himself completely inside her. The tension in his balls peaked to a point bordering on pain before it shattered. Hot spurts left him in quick succession, leaving him a shuddering mess against her.

Kit sighed loudly, a shiver running down his spine and he trembled with it. He came back to himself to find his arms wrapped tightly around her waist. In her climax, Emilia was now almost completely laying on him, her back to his chest, his twitching length still inside her sopping, pulsing channel. Their loud panting filled the room. Kit’s head was spinning from the massive, mindblowing love-making and he could barely pull his eyes from the back of his head to see clearly. Taking a deep breath, he eagerly took in the smell of sex in the room. It made his mouth water.

“Good fucking morning,” she panted thickly, her voice still hoarse from sleep.

Kit laughed haltingly, “good fucking morning indeed,”

“Did you keep all of it from last night for this morning?” she asked, a teasing lilt to her voice. She shifted off him to lay on her side and Kit followed her, not yet ready to part from her. And Kit knew she didn’t want him to pull out of her until she was ready to make a dash to the bathroom so she would not drip all over the hotel carpet.

“Suppose I did,” Kit smiled, proud of himself for always filling her so completely she needed to cup her hand under her sometimes as she waddled quickly to the bathroom. The sight was as comical as it was endearing to him.

She craned her neck to peer back at him and Kit was mesmerized by her wide, blue-gold eyes and tousled, knotted brown hair. _And the sun has risen._ He delved into her eyes, trying to even begin to comprehend the impossible colours in them. He smiled.

They have spent the days, after returning back from the castle, filming all through the day. That coupled with their nightly and early morning routine, it was exhausting to say the least but Kit felt he has not worked even a day with her there with him almost all of the time.

Filming with her opposite him felt almost effortless because she knew his style of acting as well as he knew hers. They were also incredibly open to discussing it and often sought the other’s opinions on how they would be approaching a scene.

When he was feeling shit about himself, his work or Rose’s frustrating disappearance, she would be there to pull him back to what he needed to focus on in this moment. That made everything seemed less overwhelming and more manageable to him.

She would tease him into shape and bring a smile to his face, even if he acted like it annoyed him; he absolutely adored her.

His mum had rang with a video call while he was on set. It was then Kit realised he has yet to tell his mother about finally getting back with Emilia. He knew she would be thrilled for him but could not do it with so many crew members around. Instead, he had told her that Emilia’s birthday had just passed.

_“Kit! Finally,” His mum’s blurred face appeared on his screen._

_“Sorry mum, I have been busy,” Kit glanced around to see everyone busy, “filming and… celebrating Emilia’s birthday,” his chest swelled under his armoured plate._

_“Emilia?” his mum was understandably puzzled for he has hardly mentioned her voluntarily since he got with Rose. Kit nodded, “oh, that’s lovely, Kit. Is Emilia there? I would like to wish her. It has been too long since I saw her,”_

_Kit glanced to his side to see Emilia talking to a crew member, “Mil-“ he caught himself, “Clarke,” he nudged her arm. She turned to him, her brows knitted from being under the hot Spanish sun._

_Emilia followed his gaze to his phone to see his mum, “oh,” a grin lit up her face, “Hi Deborah!” she cheered._

_“Hello Emilia, how have you been?” his mum smiled._

_“Great. And you?” Emilia leaned closer to him to get into the camera. He glanced over her blonde wig, missing her brown hair and found himself resisting the urge to kiss her temple._

_“Good, good. Would be better if Kit would pick up my calls more often,” his mother grumbled to Emilia, “oh and happy birthday darling!”_

_“Thank you,” Emilia said politely, glancing sideways to see him grinning cheekily, “I’ll make sure he picks them up,” she shot him a reproachful look._

_His mother smiled, “how has work been?”_

_“The sun has been both amazing and terrible,” Emilia sighed dramatically, “and Kitten would not stop moaning at work,”_

_A loud tsk sounded, the sound still striking fear in Kit’s heart, “work hard Kit, and less complaining,” his mother chided gently._

_“Well thanks Milly,” Kit glanced over to her._

_“It’s true,” she said firmly._

_“No snide comments, do you hear me Kit?” his mother told him sternly._

_Emilia giggled, “I adore you Deborah,”_

_A warm smile crossed his mother’s face, “feel free to take it up with me if he causes any trouble at work, Emilia,” Kit’s middle warm at how well they were getting along, completely disregarding him._

_Outwardly, he feigned a groan, “now you two must be taking the piss out of me, it’s like school all over again,”_

_“Language,” both of them snapped instantly before laughing. Kit wondered how long it would take Emilia to completely take the phone off his hands and march right off to have a good chat with his mum._

There were times when Kit found himself on opposite ends of the set from her and he would lying if he didn’t wish she could be within arm’s reach of him always. But he liked it when he catch her glancing to him so he knew she was thinking of him as he constantly thought of her.

And when their eyes happened to meet, a thousand things would be said between them with just that simple look. In that moment, his chest would expand, his heart fluttering happily within. Her sweet coy smile then would have him finding himself hard-pressed to fight an inappropriate smile from his lips during a conversation with a cast or crew member.

While she was filming, instead of taking a smoke break, he tried to distract himself by watching her. To this day, he was still in awe of how easy she made acting seem when it was anything but.

The new step in their relationship made it easier for him to simply be Jon for he didn’t need to pretend he was falling in love with her; he really is falling for her, every time she smiled at him and he wondered how such an amazing and talented human being could be his. And so, Kit found himself falling over himself trying to make her smile whenever he could.

Each one of her bright, gorgeous smile felt like a victory to him and Kit knew he would do anything to make her happy.

He would be there and help her whenever she needed him.

And just like that, whoever she was; Emilia Clarke or Daenerys Targaryen, she had his whole heart.

“What are you thinking of?” Emilia asked, pulling him back to the present. They were cuddling, basking in the post-coital fuzzy warmth that filled every inch of his body.

“Of you,” he said honestly, “of filming with you these past few days…” he hummed as he nuzzled closer.

She chuckled, “finally realised what a shit actress I am?” she giggled.

Kit’s entire body balked in response to that statement, “fuck no,” he said, his arms tightening around her protectively, “you’re an amazing actress,” he whispered.

He admired the way her laughter shook her flushed body, “and you’re biased,” she shot back gently.

“I can live with that,” he wiggled his hips closer to her arse.

Then she shifted, reaching for her phone on the nightstand. He followed her, refusing to loosen his arms even for a moment. She laughed, muttering something about him being clingy. She got to her phone and Kit busied himself with nipping her bare shoulder and slipping a hand under her camisole to cup a handful of her bare breast.

He grinned and teased her with his finger. She chuckled and Kit felt her walls twitch around his soft length. He loved how sensitive her breasts were and especially now, after their love-making.  

“You should smile more,” she whispered unexpectedly.

Kit raised a brow and craned his neck over her shoulder to peer down at her phone.

Last night was amazing. He had loved the music, the atmosphere and especially, the company. Emilia was so little but packed impressive amounts of energy. The way she danced, cheered and sung, hopping along with the beat was contagious and he found himself bouncing with her, grinning. The only thing that would have Kit hesitate to bring her to concerts in the future was the fact that she is so little that people often jostled her, not noticing her. He had almost lost her in the crowd too as they tried to leave. But the worse was when elbows swung harrowingly close to her head or when she genuinely stumbled from being knocked into. Kit had felt almost blinding anger until he reminded himself that other people probably didn't mean that. He had spent the time before this photo, being annoyed at this bloke who kept bumping into Emilia as he danced, looking to be doing so intentionally with how often it was happening and how close he was dancing next to her.  Kit had wedged himself between them, resisting the urge to shove the bloke away and that was when Emilia, completely oblivious, called him to look into the camera. He remembered how nice and assuring it felt to have her leaning against his chest. He had gently rested the side of his head against her head as she positioned her phone. 

“You look beautiful,” he smiled, turning to kiss her cheek.

“No I don’t,” she chuckled, “my hair is a mess here, I was sweating, and not to mention my fucking high forehead,”

Kit grunted in disagreement but he knew he would lose that argument so he resolved to gently knead her breast, feeling himself begin to harden in her. Showing her how beautiful he thought she was and how much he wanted her, was always the preferred option for Kit as opposed to arguing with her.

He knew she felt him growing when she sighed happily, “oh Kitten,” her free hand reached back to grasp his right arse cheek, “you’re so fucking insatiable,” she pinched him, “what has gotten over you these few days?”

Kit scoffed, “two fucking years are what have gotten over me,”

She snorted loudly, “not like you have been celibate these two years,”

A pregnant silence fell over them and Kit can feel the regret emanating from Emilia. He chuckled, “no,” he admitted and she tensed, “but it’s not the same,” he squeezed her left breast where he knew her heart lay under, “she’s not you; none of them are. She may love me, a whole fucking lot but… I can’t love her like I love you,” he whispered, “I love you, so much,” his voice wavered as he croaked out thickly. Kit didn’t know what else he could say to assure her but he knew he would open his chest and lay his heart bare for her to see if he could.

“I love you too,” she whispered back, her body relaxing somewhat to lean back into him, “I suppose…the years we have spent away from each other is good in a way… we were so young,” she caressed his arse and Kit was mildly surprised to find it comforting, “and I think we have grown, in our own way,”

She craned her neck to look at him and Kit found himself looking into the face he has already acknowledged as the face he would come to know better than his own eventually.

“The year we met, I look at you and I see a handsome, amazing man. You were so perfect, it is almost unreal. A man I have, and continue to, fall in love with. We were two people who happened to meet and come together by the force of nature, or fate if you will,” she rolled her eyes and a wet chuckle slipped from him, “it was incredibly difficult and the thought of losing you, was more than a little frightening,” her eyes became wet, “and it is still is. But now,” she searched his eyes, “I look at you and I see a man I chose and would choose over and over again to fight life’s battles with; be it mine or yours, I want to fight all of it with you. I want to hold onto you and continue to work at it together; until it works. Until we _make_ it work for us,” a steely determination came into her eyes.

Kit felt tears begin to well up in his eyes and he could only sniff and nod in agreement. Despite his tears, his face automatically split into a wide grin. He honestly didn’t know what to say. Emilia was so good with words, she spoke everything he felt better than he himself could. So Kit resorted to blurting out what was on his mind, “am I still handsome and amazing though?”

Emilia blinked and laughed. She smacked him soundly on his bare arse and he howled, feeling it sting his skin but surprisingly, not his ego like it would years before. In fact, he quite like the smirk on her face and the feel of her hand on his arse as she smacked him and how she kneaded him after, “fuck off,” she giggled.

“No,” he replied firmly, “never,” he promised.

Her giggles faded and her brows rose as the look in her eyes softened, “good,” she stroked his arse cheek. Then she turned back to her phone, “oh god,”

“What?” he raised a brow. She shoved the phone in front of his face.

“Um, we took this last night…” Kit stared, “and?”

She scrolled down and Kit read the caption.

**Fun time last night #bilbao #GOT**

“The Chemical Brothers posted about us,” she looked to be in disbelief.

Kit blinked, wondering if he should react like she was reacting, “they did say they are fans of the show last night…” she turned to him in disbelief and Kit continued pitifully, “I look constipated in that photo…?”

“For fuck’s sake,” Emilia rolled her eyes, “this is huge!” she squealed, “I’m going to post again,” she hesitated and turned to him, “you… don’t mind being on my Instagram… do you? I mean I can delete what I posted, if you do mind it,”

Kit paused. He knew Emilia had joined Instagram a while ago. He himself never took to social media simply because he wasn’t as cool and was terrible with technology – he could barely keep from losing his phone, much less maintain a social media page. Then the thought of putting himself in a position, where he would receive direct interaction with rabid fans, terrified him. He knew he was neither brave enough nor strong enough to withstand that. Not like Emilia. Her Instagram page, if anything, cemented his admiration of her.

“Why did you join instagram?” Kit asked, curious.

She studied his face, “does it bother you that I use it?” she asked, her face honest and open.

“No,” he replied, trying his best to return her honesty with his own, “but I want to know why you’re in it,” he snuggled against her.

She thought for a moment before she said, “it’s a pretty nice way to document life, and to stay connected with fans,”

Kit made a face, “Fans can be pretty brutal,”

He felt her nod, “granted,” she shrugged, “but some of them are actually pretty sweet, even if they do get…” she chuckled, “disturbing sometimes,” Kit’s scrunched up nose did not abate and she giggled, cupping his bearded cheek gently and scuffing his beard.

He smiled, nuzzling against her hand, “although… I do like the sound of the idea of documenting life,” he pressed a kiss to her palm, revelling the feel of her soft breast in his hand as he caressed her. _Especially now, when there is so many beautiful things to document. You, your lips, your arse… your breasts…and my god, your sopping cunt-_

She grinned, “want in on Instagram?”

Kit shook his head, “no thanks,” he doubted what he had in mind was remotely appropriate for that. He buried his face into her hair and the lavender infused pillow, “I want in on something else entirely,” his hand left her breast reluctantly to creep down her navel.

He felt her abdomen tremble as she chuckled, “Kitten…” her half-hearted protest faded when his fingers reached her hooded nub. She moaned softly, “ohhhh,” he grinned, his thumb caressing her below her navel.

_“Kit,” he smiled, looking up from packing their bags._

_She was standing across from him, packing her toiletries into her bag. Her separated from him by a king-sized bed was the only way the two of them could figure out to seriously start packing to check-out of their room. Emilia had a bright twinkle in her eyes, a smile on her lips and Kit wanted nothing more than to kiss her and bring her to the centre of the large bed and keep her under him for the rest of the day. His knob, stowed away in his jeans, was thankfully and finally completely soft but Kit thought he could still feel her tight walls around him in the sweet soreness._

_“I’m not on the pill,” she said in a breath, so quickly Kit almost missed it, courtesy of his distracting, wandering thoughts._

_His mind froze. All through their wonderful night, protection was the last thing on his mind. He only wanted to love her. As the implications of what she has said came to him, a lump formed in his throat and it became instantaneously hard to breathe. His eyes pricked, threatening to well with tears but Kit fought against it. His eyes dropped to her flat lower abdomen and Kit thought he could see a small swell there._

Our little Muffin. _His heart swelled so much, it began to hurt._

_“I-I’m sorry,” her stammering apology cut through his reverie, “it didn’t occur to me until after,” she explained, no longer looking at him but at the bed, “I didn’t think we would… not so soon what with you wanting to talk to Rose first…” her voice trailed off, “I can take a plan-B pill,” she finished. Every inch of Kit balked in revulsion at her suggestion. Kit could not explain it but having just entertained the possibility of the life of their little Muffin, taking contraception now felt akin to murder._

_She swallowed visibly, staring at the bed. There was a puzzling mix of emotion on her expressive face and Kit could not figure out how she felt about it no matter how long he gazed at her. One emotion however, was clear on her face and the way she explained herself; fear. Fear that he would be upset at her_ (Gods, whatever for) _for not being on the pill. Kit dropped whatever was in his hand and rounded the bed quickly._

_By the time she noticed and thought to look up at him, Kit cupped her face between his hands and pressed his lips to hers. A soft sigh left her through her nose and Kit melted against her lips at the singularly contented sound. Reluctantly pulling from her, Kit brushed the tip of his nose to hers, whispering, “don’t be sorry. You don’t have to explain yourself. This isn’t only your responsibility. It’s mine as much as yours,”_

_Her eyes slipped shut as she nodded slowly._ Do you really want to take the plan-B pill, Milly? _He wondered as he gazed at her._ Or you want to meet our perfect little Muffin? _Kit bit his tongue from asking, mindful that he might sound like he is objecting to it._ She has made the suggestion of taking the plan-B already _. Kit thought._ She wouldn’t if she wanted a child now. _As much as he wanted a child, he simply respected Emilia too much to try to influence such a deeply personal decision. Kit took a breath and steeled himself._

This is not just about you. If anything, this is more about her than you. It’s her body. _“I’ll-“ he swallowed, “we can get the plan-B pill in town before leaving for Bilbao,” he said softly. She did not open her eyes as she nodded. He caressed her cheek, feeling her soft skin. Then he felt a tear leak from her closed eye and fall onto his thumb. His heart wrenched, “Milly?” he ducked his head to look at her turned down face._

_Her eyes opened and it took her another moment for her watery, red-rimmed eyes to rise to meet his, “d-do you want me to take the plan-B?” she asked him shakily. Kit was stunned she was asking him. This was when he realised he was not used to talking it out. He had been used to guessing._

_Kit studied her gaze, “I want-“ he paused,  “whatever you want. It’s your body,”_

_“And this will be your baby as much as mine,” she countered without missing a beat and the lump in his throat only grew. Her words seared right onto his heart and Kit found himself guarding those precious words selfishly, “I want to know what you are thinking,” she pressed her forehead to his._

_He gazed at her to see her truly awaiting his response, as if it would make all the difference. He wasn’t used to living like this. Kit found himself questioning his relationship with Rose. She had always only asked him that question to convince him to see things her way and never to take his opinions into account. Swallowing, Kit looked into the eyes of his best friend and lover and told her, “I want to have a baby with you,” he whispered out, so softly it was barely audible._ Kit Harington, this is Emilia….your Milly who knows you fart in your sleep, _“fuck that, I want as many babies as we can have,” he blurted._

_She laughed._

_The sound of pure exhilaration._

_It couldn’t have been clearer she wanted the same. Kit’s own laughter followed hers. It was freeing, to admit what he wanted, knowing she cared; knowing he mattered._

_“I dreamt of it once y’know,” he admitted before he could hesitate. She raised both brows, “of you pregnant, with our baby,” he ducked his head, suddenly shy, and brushed her abdomen gently with the back of his fingers. He could still remember the shape of the swell of her abdomen, “it made me so happy,” he dared to meet her eye, “and sad, when I woke,” a sad look came into her eyes, “you called it our little Muffin,” she huffed a laugh with him. Leaning closer, she pecked him firmly on his lips._

_She lingered but their kiss remained chaste and Kit loved it anyhow, “when I realised I wasn’t on my pill last night, I tried to wake you,” she pouted, “but you wouldn’t,” she rolled her eyes, “I mean it is still early and very silly but the possibility just makes me… so happy,”_

_“I know,” he grinned and she giggled, “just like how happy the dream made me, no matter how far-fetched it seemed, at that time,”_

_When their amusement and giddy happiness quelled, she became serious, “what now, Kitten?_

_Kit paused, pondering, “we would only wrap season 7 in February,” he could see her thinking as he said, “if you do get pregnant,” the very words made his heart flutter in sheer joy, “you’ll probably start showing by then,” he pulled her closer so she was pressed up against him, “and that wouldn’t be good,” Kit had a feeling with how smart she was, Emilia already knew whatever he was telling and was about to tell her but he understood that she probably needed him to say it anyhow, “and then there’s the D &G commercial you will be doing…” _

_Her face fell and her eyes closed momentarily._

_“I don’t think D &G would appreciate you going in with a pregnant belly no matter how beautiful you look while pregnant,” he teased gently but her dismay was only matched with his own, “you would be travelling a lot too,” Kit brushed aside a stray lock of hair and tucked it behind her ear, “if you do get pregnant, I would rather it be when you can be at home to rest and take walks whenever you feel up for it. And of course,” he smiled, “when I can be there for you,” _

_She smiled weakly, “you’re right,” she admitted, snuggling close to him, “I just wish-“ she paused, “I’m being silly,”_

_Kit hugged her tighter, “no you’re not,” he kissed the top of her head, his heart renting with a longing he knew now she shared with him, “I wish for the same,”_ for a wife, children, a home. _He cupped her face, pulling her away to kiss her insistently. She hummed as she kissed him back, the passion with which she kissed setting every nerve in his body alight._

_“Kitten-“ she whispered haltingly, “we can’t,” he grinned as his hand slipped down to cup her between her legs, “w-we have to check out-“_

She took the plan-B pill after and has been on the pill since. Despite the sullen longing he felt as he watched her take the plan-B pill, Kit felt fresh hope blossom in his chest because he knew then that his dreams were no longer only dreams and they were only a matter of time.

Caressing her abdomen now, Kit felt overcome with adoration for the woman in his arms. He wanted something he hasn’t wanted since they separated in 2012; he wanted to be himself. For with her beside him, it seemed a multitude of possibilities were now open to him and Kit could hardly wait to begin living all of these possibilities. He felt driven to be successful as an actor and to be a better person.

_To be someone you deserve._

He hummed as he massaged her till her bundle of nerves swelled, emerging from its hood; warm and engorged. She has begun writhing in his arms, soft moans escaping her lips periodically. The sound of her whimpers and moans made him harden and lengthen, still nestled blissfully in her. Grunting, he felt his previous release further moisten her sopping channel so much so their combined fluids began to seep from where they joined.  

“ _Shit_ ,” she hissed, shifting her hips.

“Fuck it,” Kit replied. Before she could reach for a tissue, his hips pulled back and established languid, rhythmic thrusts. Despite herself, she arched her back to meet every single one of his thrusts, “we’re checking out soon anyway,” he told her haltingly.

She laughed breathily, “oh Kitten,” she sighed happily, evidently enjoying his relaxed pace, “we’re going to be late…” she whimpered. Craning his neck to catch a glimpse of her, Kit hugged her firm against him. A smile turned up the corner of her lips and Kit pressed a kiss to the dimpled corner, his tongue darting out to taste her.

“We have to be quick then,” he whispered. Her walls grew wetter and was so slick that each thrust was plainly audible in the room, “ _my god…_ ” he grunted, the sound of him entering her soaked, tight channel over and over and of her moaning her pleasure was incredibly arousing. His bollocks were heavy, the sacks tight and they started to ache in earnest.

“ _Kitten_ ,” she keened as her body stretched itself taut in his arms. Her walls closed in and squeezed him so tightly it threatened to expel him and yet clung onto him at the same time. He groaned, revelling in the sweet sensation that bordered on pain. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he thrusted firmly into her, burying himself completely in her tantalising moist warmth. Her slit fluttered around his base and he snapped.  

“ _Emilia-_ “ he cried, burying his face into her skin as he spilled into her, his length twitching as he eagerly expelled the aching heaviness in his bollocks.

She moaned softly with each warm spurt that he released into her. When he was done, he cuddled her, realising she had a leg intertwined firmly around his, “Kit…” she whimpered, her body twitching.

“I’m right here,” he panted, pulling her firmer against him, “you feel so fucking good, Milly,” he caress her calf with the side of his feet.

She giggled breathily and Kit felt a trembling hand clutch his arm which was around her waist. Then he felt her other hand brush his sacks, her nails tickling him. Still sensitive, he jumped, alarmed and her giggles intensified.

“ _Very_ funny,” he rolled his eyes.

“It is,” she said, her voice deeper than usual, “alright, we have to get going,” she checked her phone, “don’t want the cast and the van waiting for us,” she made to get up but Kit whimpered and tightened his arms around her waist. Whiplashed, she fell back against him heavily, “Kitten, come on,”

“No,” he chuckled, tightening his arms around her.

A huff of feigned annoyance left her before he felt her fingers tickle him around his nipples. He yelped, jumping away from her.

She laughed before quickly leaving the bed. On shaky knees, an aftermath of her orgasm, she stumbled. His heart leaped to his throat and he lurched forward to grab her. She caught herself on the edge of the bed. Meeting his eye, she giggled and he rolled his eyes, “be careful,” he muttered.

“Fuck!” she swore before hopping up and awkwardly waddling to the bathroom, “fuck fuck fuck fuck-“ Kit grinned when he glimpsed a trail of his cum on the inside of her thigh before she slipped into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her, “fucking fuck,”

He loved her. The grin still on his face, he rolled to collapse on his belly. Burying his face into her side of the bed, he took a deep breath of her scent from the sheets, “Emilia Isobel Euphemia Rose Clarke,” he murmured into the bed, “ _Milly_ ,” _My Milly._ The amounts of happiness that name brought him was bordering on ridiculous. He chuckled to himself and just before he ran out of oxygen and suffocated, he rolled onto his side. Her warmth still lingered on the sheets and Kit soaked it up eagerly.

They had finished filming in Bilbao and were moving to Seville today. Kit smiled at the thought of creating more wonderful memories in Spain with her. _Spain is turning out to be a wonderful, memorable place for us. Not as special as Belfast, at Cavehill park. But still._

It was then Kit was rudely yanked to the present by the sound of vibration on his bedside table. He glanced to her bedside table to see her phone missing. At that moment, music started playing from the bathroom. He chuckled at the thought of her dancing and singing while showering. With a lazy grunt, he rolled over to grab his ringing phone.

**Marianna.**

Puzzled as to why she was calling him at this time for she knew he would be busy with Thrones, Kit picked up, “good morning Marianna,”

“Good morning Kit,” she sounded worried, and distracted, “have you seen the tabloid?” Kit’s stomach lurched.

“What about?” he forced himself to take a deep breath.

“About you and Emilia,” Marianna said and the fear and anxiety gripped him so suddenly that he thought he could throw up, “Did Emilia post something about the Chemical Brothers concert?”

Kit blinked, “yes, she did. And? Nathalie was there too,”

“Kit, you know about the incessant rumours between you and Emilia,” Marianna sounded exasperated, “from the beginning in 2011,” _except they weren’t merely rumours then…and they aren’t rumours now,_ “tabloids would go for anything that suggests what they would like to believe is true, which is that you and Emilia have something going on,” Kit had half a mind then and there to blurt it out to Marianna that he’s with Emilia and will be with her for the rest of his life. But the thought of what Emilia thought of it stopped him and Kit remained mummed about it, “and you know how much Rose hates it when the tabloid finds something to talk about,”

Rose had called Marianna without his knowledge a few years ago to tell her to bury speculations about him and Emilia when the photo of them kissing from the Rolling Stones shoot surfaced. Kit had been upset at her but there was little his anger at Rose could do when Marianna was already aware of Rose’s disdain for any speculations between him and other women.

“What did the tabloid say?” Kit asked, instead, worried for Emilia.

“That you and Emilia have something while filming season 7,” Marianna replied, “behind Rose’s back,”

 _Did they paint Emilia in a bad light?_ He wanted to ask but instead he asked, “can you send it to be please?”

“Sure,” Marianna replied and Kit felt a buzz. He glanced at his phone to see that he has a message from Marianna, “Kit, I will be arranging for a meeting with Emilia’s publicist; I think we should be on the same page-“

“No,” he said quickly, definitively. Marianna fell silent, “I’ll talk to Emilia about it and I’ll let you know what she decides,”

“Kit, I think I should bury this as soon as-“

“I’ll let you know,” he interrupted.

A beat. “Alright,” Marianna eventually replied, sounding defeated.

“Thank you,” Kit said and hung up. Instantly, he opened the attachment from Marianna. His heart was beating a mile a minute as he prayed that the damage hasn’t already been done. He knew he would kill anyone who would tarnish Emilia’s name.

The first thing that caught his eye was the photo of them, a few years ago at a press event for Thrones. He remembered missing her terribly and when he saw her, he was helpless against pulling her in for a firm hug and relishing the feel of her against him. She looked stunning that day as well and Kit thought the photo the tabloids managed to pull up hardly did her justice. Then he saw the on-set photo of them. Emilia was being goofy, as usual, slinging her arm though his in a bid to keep him with her when he tried to talk to Liam. They already knew there were paparazzi and fans taking pictures of them while they are filming but both Kit and Emilia simply couldn’t manage to hide it; if they weren’t touching the other, their eyes would glance over too often, revealing on whom their thoughts lingered.

He adored this woman, Kit realised. With every ounce of his being, he adored her and would do anything it took to protect her. She has already done more for him by simply being by his side; by being his.

Kit’s eyes flittered over the headlines: **Kit & Emilia. Game of Love? **

**Cosy co-stars.**

His eyes skimmed over the article.

**Virtually inseparable.**

**Even when they have no reason to, they’ve eventually been drawn to each other’s sides.**

**They have a lot in common – more than he does with Rose.**

**He spends his breaks in the trailer of a dark-haired actress on the show.**

**Kit hardly gets to see Rose so it’s natural he’d be drawn to Emilia.**

Kit glared at the statement that seemed to suggest he was only with Emilia because Rose was unavailable.

“What are you reading?” a soft warm voice asked, gentle arms snaking around his neck. He hadn’t realise when she had left the shower. He turned to her to see her kneeling on the bed beside him, her bare body wrapped in nothing but a towel.

His eyes automatically took in the sight of her eagerly, memorising the sight of moist alabaster skin. She smelled amazing too, her jasmine shampoo and apple shower gel filling his lungs. This was better than any cigarette he could inhale in the mornings. Her hair was wrapped in a towel on her head and her face was pale. His eyes lingered on her plump lips and Kit leaned up for a taste as she dipped her head down to grant him a chaste kiss, “mmm,” he smiled as she pulled away, “you smell great,”

“I should hope so, I literally just got out of the shower,” she giggled.

“You smell good enough to eat,” he hissed and leaned closer to her. Playfully, he bit into the top of her ample breast.

“Don’t you dare leave a mark!” she complained, “I already have one on the back of my neck and on my shoulder. God knows when you left it there,”

“Probably sometime between when my dick entered you and when I cummed inside you,” she blushed and Kit grinned, pleased with himself as he released her to kiss her tenderly where he bit her, turning her flawless skin red. His grin widened into a smirk as he ducked to bite the hardening, now visible tip of her breast through her towel, “mmmmmm,”

A soft moan left her, “stop it,” she whined, pushing him away half-heartedly, “we don’t have time for that,” he pouted when she succeeded in pushing him away. She took one look at his face and giggled, “stop that,” she righted his pouty lips with her fingers only for him to take her finger between his teeth, “bad Kitten,” she scolded gently. He laughed, “what were you reading?” she smiled, running her fingers through his probably haphazard curls.

His smile faded and he unlocked his phone to show her. He studied her face as he handed his phone over. A hand stroking his hair, she read the article with an unreadable expression on her face. When she seemed done, Kit slid closer to her, “don’t worry, I won’t let them write rubbish about you,”

“That’s… not what I’m worried about,” Emilia said quietly as she lowered his phone. Kit panicked, having no clue what she was thinking. He raised a hand to her face tentatively. She did not shy away from him and he was immensely relieved. He caressed her cheek gently and eventually, her eyes met his, “Rose… I can’t even imagine how she must be feeling…” she looked so sad then Kit wanted to hold her and take all of her sadness into himself, “with how much she loves you… my god…” he cupped her face, “I-I’m sorry-“

“No, none of this is your fault,”

“If I didn’t post the photo…and fuck, I just did again-“

“No,” he snapped firmly and she blinked, staring into his eyes, “I don’t want you to tread around your life because of this. You can take and post as many photos as you want. This is your account,”

She told him weakly, “then it’d be filled with you,” Kit paused. _She wants to document her life... W-Will I be her life then?_ She giggled, “which will be pretty fucking boring,”

Kit mocked a scowl as his heart fluttered with joy, “you mean exciting. I’ll have my own fucking fan Instagram account run by Emilia Clarke. One of the many,”

Emilia laughed, “please,” she rolled her eyes.

“Skeptic,” Kit muttered, “come on, I’ll show you, I definitely have fan Instagram accounts,” he said smugly even if doubt gnawed at him. But when she giggled, it made putting himself out there like that and risking total embarrassment completely worth it.

“No, I will not search for it,” she laughed, twisting away when Kit made to grab for her phone. Smiling, he wrapped his arms around his waist and her bare shoulders.

When her laughter quelled, Kit told her, “Mari called me. She asked to meet with Liz so the two of them can be on the same page,” he added, “she intends to bury this, for Rose,”

Emilia thought on it for a moment before she said, “we should bury it. Marianna can do it,”

Kit ducked his head to catch her eye. She smiled when she looked at him. Assured, he pressed his forehead to hers, “do you want me to tell Mari and Kirk and Dallas about us?”

She smiled, “do you want me to tell Michael and Jeremy and Liz about us?”

Kit chuckled, “I don’t know. I honestly want to scream it out to the world _and_ keep it private at the same time,” he cradled her tenderly to his chest, “I’m terribly conflicted,”

Emilia giggled, “I know what you mean,” she gazed up at him, scratching his beard gently. The feel of it made him smile and Kit pushed into her hand, sinking happily into the comfort she gave him. His eyes slipped shut as he nuzzled against her fingers. She continued to scratch his beard, moving steadily from his cheek to his chin, “such a Kitten,” she whispered.

He hummed, “your kitten. I hope you know that,” his eyes remained closed.  

“Alright,” she interrupted him, rather rudely in Kit’s opinion but nothing was worse than when her fingers stilled and left his face entirely, “we have to go now, really. I think Nat just texted me,”  

* * *

The lift door opened and Kit glanced to her before they simultaneously let each other go. His palm tingled against the cold air when they have been nestled against her warm hand since they left the hotel room. He already missed her.

From the corner of his eye, he glimpsed her glancing to him and Kit knew she missed him too.

“Finally you guys!” Nat greeted them. Emilia laughed, hugging and kissing her friend hello. Kit kissed her on the cheek as he put down both his and Emilia’s bags, “there’s a crowd gathered outside,” Nat sighed.

“I can hear them,” Kit said, sounding nervous.

Emilia laughed, “they’re not going to eat you,”

“How do you know that?” Kit shot back.

Kit was completely unprepared for the smirk she shot his way. She brushed past him as she headed for the check-out counter, whispering, “because, only I can,” she walked away from him and Kit followed her, an expression of disbelief that she was being so bold within earshot of so many cast and crew.

He watched her dig into her huge bag. He had teased her about her bag, telling her the bag looked like it was carrying her instead of the other way around. They both could not be bothered with their contact lens, preferring not to have it during plane flights. Kit thought he hadn’t seen someone look so good with glasses on. He went after her, to check-out for his room; the room he did not remember spending a single night in. He vaguely wondered what room service thought happened to him.

She wore a grey trench that effectively covered the mark he left at the base of the nape of his neck. She had been bitter and complained about it when she realised her t-shirt did next to nothing to hide it. But he quelled her annoyance with a sweet, lingering kiss that had her smiling, seeming to forget what got her riled up in the first place.

When they returned to their bags, the cast seemed to be chatting happily. Quietly, they joined the group. Emilia dug out her phone and began typing a text. When she was done, she looked up to meet his eyes which were already gazing at her. He smiled and she returned it before quickly pursing her lips against it and averting his gaze.

It was then his stomach growled. They were so busy with their morning activities they didn’t have time to grab a meal. Unsure if they would have food on the flight, Kit glanced around before darting off.

When he returned, the cast was preparing to leave the hotel in smaller groups to be loaded into minibuses that will bring them to the airport for their flights. Kit watched her link hands with Nathalie, wishing he could hold her hand like that so openly. As she was looking around, presumably for him, Kit quickly approached her. He brushed her free hand.

“Where did you go?” she asked him, a small smile on her lips.

He shook his head, “here,” he handed her a small paper bag. She looked puzzled but before she could ask him, Nathalie tugged on her hand. They both looked up to see porters helping to carry their bags to the minibus parked outside.

“Gods, you two will see each other again at the airport,” Nathalie whispered, a teasingly annoyed look on her face.

Emilia’s cheeks flushed a lovely shade of red. Kit chuckled, shooting Nathalie a mocked reproachful look. He brushed her flushed cheek with the back of his hand much too briefly before he stepped back and nodded for her to leave.

She pursed her lips against a smile before she headed for the entrance, stowing the paper bag away in her bag. He watched her step out, smiling and waving to the crowd. _There she goes, my Milly. And she is perfect._

The cheers hit a crescendo, screaming her name as Emilia disappeared from his sight.

 

**Emilia**

She grinned to the crowd, waving. She loved the energy of the spanish crowd.

She hopped into the minibus. Nathalie jumped in beside her and some of the crew members.

“You two are giving me diabetes,” Nathalie whispered, a small sweet smile on her face.

Resolving to ignore her friend’s teasing, Emilia adjusted her glasses higher up her nose before she chuckled bashfully. Her stomach growled and she hugged her empty belly, groaning, “fuck, you don’t suppose there would be meals on the flight, do you?”

Nathalie rolled her eyes at her attempt to change the subject, “too busy for breakfast this morning?” Nathalie teased.

“Woke up late,” she muttered, trying to ignore Nathalie when she laughed and snorted at her sad, unconvincing reply. _Still can’t tell a fucking lie, Jesus.._. Her cheeks burned as she recalled the sensation of his hard length parting her wonderfully and throbbing as he spurted deep into her. She thought she could still feel his rigid length between her legs. She tensed when suddenly, she felt a gush of thick fluid drip out of her. She shifted, knowing she had stained her knickers and praying it would not seep through her jeans and onto the seat with how much of it there was. _Fucking hell, Kitten._ Emilia could’ve sworn she cleaned herself up well. She bit her lip as her knickers moistened uncomfortably.

She glanced out the back window as the minibus started moving to see Kit leaving the hotel to board the next one.

He looked wonderful with his glasses and mane of raven curls. She was green with envy regarding his hair. He spent no more than 2 seconds on his hair while no matter how hard she tried, her brown hair looked too dull, messy and unsightly so she ended up putting it up in a bun.

Suddenly recalling that he has given her a paper bag before she left, she pulled it out of her bag. Glancing to see that Nathalie was busy on her phone, Emilia peered into it.

She was instantly hit with the mouth-watering fragrance of butter and pastry. Then she peered in.

_A fucking muffin._

She swallowed a giggle as she studied the item which Kit had told her they nicknamed their baby after in his dream.

_Chocolate chip by the looks of it and the fucking delicious smell._

When she pulled it out, it was still warm in her hand and Emilia quickly dug into it, hunger gnawing painfully at her empty stomach.

_Kit fucking Harington. You are a. Fucking. Hero._

_But I wouldn’t be seen dead telling you that._

As she was almost done with her muffin, her phone vibrated. She pursed her lips against a smile, ready to reply his text with heart emojis and tease him by telling him that courtesy of his cum that had just leaked out of her, his little Muffin is finally in her stomach.

A glance at the name of whom the text was from drained the smile from her face. Her fingers froze, feeling unbearably cold and she almost dropped her phone.

Hesitantly, Emilia took a subtle breath and opened the text to read:

**How could you?**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A chapter littered with little snippets of them filming season 7 (there was so much content I thought it deserved a chapter on its own - hope you enjoy the pictures) now that they are back together!  
> And with this chapter, it wraps up the small sub-plot of them getting back together. Now onto the next sub-plot that I am sure the last line will clue you guys in on :) Hope you guys are as excited as I am! 
> 
> Let me know what you think of this chapter!


	14. Leslies

_Early November 2016, Seville, Spain._

**Emilia**

“You’re fucking addicted to that thing,”

She looked up to see Kit sitting on the bed. His curls were messy around his now sulky face. Because he has just finished showering, he was stark bollocks, as usual. But what made Emilia stare longer than usual was that he sat cross-legged at the ankles, his legs spread wide, so his genitals were in full view.

He pouted, drawing her gaze back to his beautiful face, “I’m getting jealous,” he warned.  

She giggled, in partial disbelief, “it’s a fucking phone, Kitten,” despite that, a blush coloured her cheeks. The last time Kit was jealous was when a cute bloke flirted with her at a café they were dining at and she had returned his smile with her own. Kit’s eyes darkened then as they watched her unblinkingly for the rest of dinner. After dinner that day, Kit had fucked her against the door of the hotel the moment she passed the doorway, then made love to her slowly in the shower and then again on the bed before he cradled her possessively against his chest. He had let her and himself rest only then, whispering slurred, drowsy words of love against her neck.

“And yet, it’s getting more attention than I am,” he whined pitifully, the tone and look on his face tugging at her heart strings.

She found herself transfixed by his pouty lips with his fleshy, moist lower lip pushed out. She locked her phone, on which she was browsing Instagram after posting a photo she took at the football match. Standing from her chair at the vanity where she was blowing dry her hair, she made her way over to Kit. His eyes followed her and Emilia knew why; she was wearing one of his shirts she fished from his open luggage. Kit always did have a thing for her wearing his shirts; it was obvious from the way he stared, looking like he was salivating over her whenever she wore it.

And that was exactly why she opted to wear one of his shirt tonight.

Kit stared at her as she knelt on the bed and made her way over to him. Kneeling between his parted legs, she cupped his face gently, tilting his head back so he looked up at her instead of hungrily staring her body, “you perv,” she scolded gently.

He grinned cheekily, his smile reaching his eyes and her heart melted, “well, this perv loves you,” he told her, his eyes wide; honest.

She smiled. Kit has taken to say it spontaneously, multiple times in the day and taking her by surprise every single time. It was something new that Kit has not done when they together last but every time he said it, it made her feel warm and fuzzy. It made her feel loved by him and Emilia wanted to melt into his embrace each time it happened. Unfortunately, Kit has taken to whisper it to her in public, when they were surrounded by friends. Nonetheless, it made her very happy.

He brushed his finger to her smiling lip and she giggled. Leaning down, she took his bottom lip between hers and kissed him, teasing him. She smiled when he groaned. She knew he loved it when she kissed him like this. When his tongue gently trailed over her lip, her lips parted just so, feeling him deepen the kiss. Her toes curled as she recalled how it felt to have said tongue delving into her slit, tasting her as he teased her. _Kitten._ She wasn’t sure if she had said it aloud but she felt him hum happily. _His tongue- is divine._ She moaned, “Kit,”

He grunted as he rose from the bed to be levelled with her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and wrestled her till she fell onto her back, with him atop her.

She laughed, “Kitten,” she bit his lip, keeping it between her teeth teasingly. She did so love his weight on her.

“Ow,” he whimpered. She giggled, letting him go. She watched his eyes gaze down to her body, encased in his oversized shirt. A small smile teased the edge of his lips as his fingers came up to toy with the button on her shirt; or rather, his shirt. He licked his lips eagerly as he bared her chest to him, “mmm,” he grinned up at her. He looked so happy and excited then, Emilia couldn’t contain her laughter.

“You look like a kid whose mum allowed him a second dip in the cookie jar,” she teased.

Kit’s grin only widened as he uncovered her bare breast and she leaned up to kiss him. He dipped his head down to kiss her eagerly. His warm hand cupped her breast and gently kneaded her. He hummed, a sound reverberating from deep down his throat.

Then his phone rang.

She made to turn to look but his other hand held her chin and his lips remained firmly pressed to hers. Shying away, she tried to ask, “don’t you want to-“

Pressing his lips back on hers, he kissed her fiercely before he replied, “no,” his voice raspy, “fuck it,”

She giggled and tried to ignore it but whoever was calling was insistent; the phone ringing a second time. At the thought that it could be Deborah, Kit’s mum, desperately trying to reach her son, Emilia placed a hand on his bare chest, “Kit,” she said firmly, trying to ignore the lovely heat of his skin, the feel of the fine hairs on his firm chest, the feel of his nipples on her finger tip. She knew he would groan ever so slightly if she circled his nipple…  

He whined, moving away. His lips lingered on hers and Emilia felt like she could taste his reluctance. His eyes met hers, the hungry look in them undeniable. He must have seen the determined look in her eyes for he let out a growl of frustration before pulling himself from leaning over her entirely.

She watched him scoot from the bed, his eyes lingering on her half-bared form as her eyes lingered on his nude body. He looked spectacular with his broad shoulders, muscled torso that narrowed off, with two sloped lines, at the hips. She followed the thick trail of hair down his navel and she took in the glorious sight of his rigid length. She knew from the sight that he could grow more swollen, until the head of him was an angry red and the slit on the tip oozed clear fluid. Her mouth watered at the memory of the taste of him.  

She sat up, leaving her shirt unbuttoned as she squirmed, rubbing her thighs together. The moisture gathered there, spread to the insides of her thighs and she tried to ignore the desperate ache to be filled by him. Vaguely aware of Kit picking up his phone in the background, she bit her lips and stroked herself tentatively.

It hardly felt as good as his fingers does. _Not to mention his dick._ But she would make do, for now.

“ _What_?” Kit’s whisper had her turning to him, worried. His face was pale and his eyes stared, wide but unseeing at the bedside table.

Her stomach sank as she witnessed his dread. She scooted towards him, kneeling on the bed. He was silent and she could hear someone speaking agitatedly on the other side. She reached for his hand, holding it gently between both of hers as she tried her best to comfort him however she could. Kit did not even glance to acknowledge her as his lips parted shakily to speak. That worried her even more and she stroked his knuckles with her thumb. Her heart wrenched to see him in this state and she wished she knew what news he has heard.

“I-I’ll be there…” he muttered, his gaze finally seeing and finding her. He hung up, still seemingly in shock.

Emilia was dying to find out what it was but decided to simply stroke his knuckles and the inside of his wrists until he was ready.

“I-it’s R-Rose,” Kit croaked out weakly, “she’s in the hospital,”

* * *

 

_“What’s wrong?” Kit asked her as he entered her hotel room, finally alone with her. She knew he would notice. But he didn’t dare to ask her and she didn’t dare to broach the topic to tell him when the others were within earshot. He approached her and took both her hands. His thumbs caressed the back of her hands so tenderly that she wanted to curl up in his arms and cry._

_She had swallowed the lump in her throat, since she saw the text, then and rushed into his waiting arms. He tightened his arms around her firmly, keeping her safe in a warm cocoon he created just for her. She felt his lips against her hairline and felt his belly expand as he took a deep breath of her. She smiled despite the tears welling up in her eyes and took a deep breath of him. As he filled all of her sense, it was like it was infinitely easier to breathe._

You are everything to me. _She hid her face against his chest, praying she was brave enough this time to hold onto him. She summoned all her strength and allowed her arms to encircle his slim waist. She held him firmly, shoving aside all the doubt and especially, guilt, “I love you,” he whispered._

_That opened up the dam of emotions that guilt has been suppressing, “oh **I** love you,” she instantly replied, “I love you I love you I love you,” she choked over her words, “s-so much,” she fisted his shirt firmly. _

_“Milly,” he kissed the top of her head again before he coaxed her face from his chest, “what happened?” fear crossed his face._

_Gazing up at him, she went to the vanity to collect her phone, knowing it would be easier to simply show it to him. Since she received it, she has been so shaken she hasn’t replied._

**_How could you?_ ** _The text read. Unanswered._

_Kit took one look at it and then at the name. His eyes went cold and his jaw tightened visibly under his beard as he glared at the message. Turning to meet her eye, his gaze softened and he cupped her face gently. He leaned forward and kissed her sweetly, “you have done **nothing** wrong,” he hissed with surprisingly venom, “and she doesn’t have the right to ask you that. I am the one who told her and I should be one she is fucking texting. Not you,” _

_Inwardly, she disagreed that she did no wrong. Emilia knew deep down that she was the one who admitted to him that she still loves him. She was the one who brought them back together, only as much as he did. She was the one who betrayed her friend, “Kit-“ she paused, biting her tongue against arguing with him when he was only trying to comfort her._

_“Milly,” he said before she could continue. With his gorgeous eyes, he pleaded with her, “please…don’t apologise. Not for this,” he glanced between them, “not for us,”_

I won’t, because I am not sorry _. It was the first thing that came to mind but she couldn’t voice it as he continued._

 _“I am **not** sorry for any of this,” he pressed his forehead to hers and hugged her to him, “these few months I have been with you, and especially these past few weeks when I am **really** , finally, with you, has made me happier than I have ever felt. For years,” he pecked her on her lips, almost desperately before pulling away much too quickly, “I love you and this love feels **right.**_ _And nothing has ever felt right in my life. Not school, not work, not my acting, not Rose… not even who I am,” he croaked, “you,” he cupped her cheeks, his eyes wide, “you are the best thing I have ever done and could ever do,”_

_“No,” she whispered, “don’t say things like that. You are wonderful just how you are-“_

_“No, please,” tears welled up in his eyes as he pleaded, “I need you,”_

_It dawned on her then._ He thought I am going to leave. Again.

_Her heart wrenched painfully in her chest and she wanted to kiss him and hold him at the same time. She settled for the former with her arms around his neck, “I’m here now,” she whispered against his lips, “and I am not going anywhere,”_

_He visibly relaxed before he pulled away to gaze at her, as if he needed to confirm it. Her heart ached and Emilia would do anything in that moment to turn back time and make it such that she has never left him all those years ago._

_She supposed it was ironic too; that he was questioning her now, seeing as she was the one who casted doubt on him, waiting for him to leave years ago, “I told you we would face things together,” she said gently, “that we would make it work… and I meant it,”_

_He searched her eyes before he smiled, one so filled with relief. A chuckle left him as he pulled her in for a firm hug._ If I could choose a place to stay forever, it would be right here; your arms around me, my head tucked under your chin, your heart beating in my ear.

_“You’re my place now,” she blurted._

_“What?” he chuckled, sounding as puzzled as he looked when she pulled back to gaze up at him._

_“My place,” she repeated, “my spot,” she admitted shyly, softly, “somewhere I would always want to be…”_

_He pondered it before a dazzling grin spilled across his face, “are you saying that you want to be where I am? That you will go wherever I go?” he asked her, his tone teasing._

_The thought sounded wonderful but she looked away, her cheeks burning. When he put it like that, Emilia felt suddenly unexplainably ashamed that she has grew to be dependent on him. She has always prided herself on how independent she was. How she has come to need him so, she would never figure it out._

_“Milly,” he nuzzled against her cheek. She could feel his grin against her skin. A giggle left him and Emilia laughed. She did not remember hearing Kit giggle so gleefully like this but she already loved the singularly happy sound of it. When his happiness quelled somewhat, enough to talk, he drew back, “you’re my place too,” he grinned goofily and she giggled._ I love you.

_She reached to scuff his beard just as he enjoyed but then she realised she still held her phone in her hand, a stark reminder of the text. She gazed down at it, frowning. When she met his eye, he was frowning too, “what should we do?”_

_Kit pursed his lips, “let me talk to her,” he said, his gaze softening as he met hers._

_“She’s my friend too,” Emilia said even if the thought of seeing Rose made her terribly anxious._

_“We both need to talk to her but I’d like to speak to her properly first,” Kit’s gaze was questioning even as he told her and Emilia knew he was seeking her permission, “I know I fucked it up the first time I said that,” he chuckled, his eyes darting down bashfully, “you are just so damn sexy,” he chided._

_She mocked a scowl, “oh so now it’s my fault?”_

_“Yes, completely,” Kit smiled, chuckling as he nuzzled against her forehead, “I’ll make it work, I promise,” he murmured against her skin, his facial hair tickling her._

_Leaning back, she peered up at him, “_ we _will make it work,” he nodded, smiling._

* * *

That was their first night in Seville. Kit did text her after, confronting her about her text to Emilia and demanding for her to reply his text instead. He was incredibly upset with Rose.

Glancing sideways to him, Emilia felt her heart wrenched at the sight of the worry that seemed permanently etched to his face since he got the call. They have informed David and Dan, who had graciously cleared their schedule for the next two days before they both hopped on the soonest flight to New York. The decision that she would join him was unsaid but Emilia knew she wouldn’t want to be apart from him; not now, not yet. Kit did not object in the slightest and a grateful look flittered across his face when it became apparent to him that she was coming along.

It was a long haul flight and Kit, bring terrified of flying, was incredibly tensed. She had held his hand as unnoticeably as possible till the plane balanced out and he looked visibly better. When they were allowed to remove their seatbelts, Kit had peeled off his jacket and wore it for her, tucking the collar around her neck. Instantly, the smell of the aircraft, which she loathed, was replaced by his warm scent and she unwittingly nuzzled into the collar of it.  

“Sorry,” he had told her, “we couldn’t get a business or first class,” he said hoarsely. Because it was incredibly last minute, all of them were fully booked despite Kit pleading for them to check if there was a last minute cancellation.

She had shook her head and dismissed it by telling him she was completely comfortable. Then Kit had slid back into his seat and started brooding. She understood his worry for she felt it as well. Rose is very dear friend to both of them and the thought of anything bad happening to her frightened Emilia. While waiting for their flight, Kit had filled her in on what Portia, Rose’s sister, had said when she called to inform him.

Portia had been curt, rude but Kit had understood her tone for Portia blamed whatever happened to Rose on Kit and refused to say anymore until he turned up.

Gazing at him now, Emilia could only try to understand the guilt that was probably swallowing him up from the inside. Kit has always been a sweet, kind man. The thought that he would do anything to deliberately hurt someone, especially a friend, was ridiculous to her. As much as Emilia resented how Portia had blamed Kit for it, she knew they have hurt Rose. Now, Emilia only wished she could even begin to take some of Kit’s guilt and worry upon herself.

Subtly, Emilia took his hand to find it freezing. But she knew he wasn’t cold. He was nervous and worried. She covered his hand with both of hers, trying to warm him up. He glanced to her, forcing a weak smile. Glancing around to see most of the passengers around them transfixed by the in-flight entertainment or asleep, Emilia reached up and combed her fingers through his soft curls, allowing her fingertips to drag across his scalp.

His eyes fluttered close and he leaned into her touch. She stroked his hair a few times before she stroked his bearded cheek, gazing achingly at the hint of pain she glimpsed on his tired face. Emilia hadn’t meant to hurt Rose. If there was a way to give herself to Kit and make him happy without hurting Rose, Emilia knew she would do anything for it. But there wasn’t.

_If I hadn’t left Kit…If I wasn’t so scared then… if I knew what I really wanted back then…_

This was Emilia’s mistake and Rose had to bear the brunt of it.

It wasn’t fair but as she watched a smile slowly creep onto his face, chasing away the worry and guilt and fear and anxiety, Emilia knew Kit was all that mattered. She knew she would stay by his side for as long as he chose her and wanted her.

_I’m sorry, Rose._

Kit began nodding off. With the hand stroking his bearded face, she gently brought his head to her shoulder. She reached for the blanket the aircraft provided and opened it. Draping it over him, she tucked it around him as well as she could reach. Cupping his cheek gently, she stroked him with her thumb, “it’ll be okay…” she whispered into his hair, telling him as much as she was telling herself.

* * *

 

By the time they landed, both of them were extremely fatigued from the long flight of more than ten hours, excluding the transfer they did mid-flight. Emilia could see how tired Kit was with the hollowed look in his eyes as they stood at the hotel, checking-in to the rooms Kit had hastily booked while they waited for their flight. Kit had booked two rooms to keep up the pretence of their friendship and Emilia had no qualms about it, knowing he would end up in her room for all of the nights they stayed there anyway.

As she guessed, Kit completely disregarded his room, adjacent, to hers and slipped into her room. Kit deposited their bags before he turned to her. He combed his now slightly dishevelled hair with his fingers as he gazed at her.

 _Poor Kitten._ He looked ready to collapse onto the bed and snore the remaining of the night away. And yet, his gaze stayed on her unwaveringly. Unable to decipher the look on his face, she wondered what he was thinking, “what?”

Kit smiled, albeit weakly. He shook his head in almost disbelief as he said, “you look beautiful,” he chuckled.

It was the last thing she expected for him to utter. She blushed, surprised. A shy chuckle escaped her, “you must be _really_ tired,” she teased. She was sure after more than 10 hours on the plane, her hair would be dry and horrendous and her skin looked terrible with how dry it felt. Her lips felt chapped. All in all, she was feeling terribly unattractive.

Kit narrowed his eyes in disapproval at her as he approached slowly. Standing in front of her, he gently placed his hands on her waist, his fingertips brushing her hips. Enjoying his tender touch in the privacy of their hotel room, she smiled, her hand coming up to hold his arm, “I am. And you look as beautiful as I remember,” he began caressing her. Leaning closer, he hugged her to him gently, resting his head atop hers, “thank you for coming out here with me. I know how much you hate airports and travelling,”

She chuckled, “not as much as you hate plane but don’t worry about it,” she tilted her head back to press a kiss to his bearded chin. His beard tickled her chapped lips and she sneaked a whiff of his scent, “when do you want to go and see her?” she asked, “do you need a rest first?”

Kit shook his head, “I doubt I will be getting much rest anyway,”

She smiled sympathetically and reached up to brush a stray curl of hair out of his face, tucking it gently behind his ear, “alright. Right now then,” she let go of him to reach for her bag but he grabbed her hand to stop her.

“Do you need some rest?” he asked, searching her face.

She paused. Smiling, she shook her head, “no, I’m fine,” the last thing she wanted was to be an added worry on Kit’s already frazzled mind.

Kit studied her a moment longer before he smiled weakly and let her go. She grabbed her bag, him his bag and they made their way out.

* * *

 

Hospital was not a welcomed sight to Emilia. Sure, she adored the nurses there who were always extremely warm and caring. But that was it. She disliked everything else about it from the smell to the memories it brings back for her. Nonetheless, because an aneurysm that has occurred usually increases the chances of an aneurysm happening again, and also for the small swell in one of the vessels in her brain, Emilia was on regular follow-up. As much as she disliked it, it is a place that she found herself in more than she would like.

She felt him come closer and his hand gently held hers, squeezing her fingers. She turned to him to see him looking around. She wasn’t sure if he knew that the sight of the hospital turned her stomach but whatever made him touch her quite suddenly was greatly welcomed.

Much too soon, his touch left her. She watched him approach the counter, asking for Rose Leslie. Outwardly, he looked calm, collected but Emilia could plainly see the way his fingers clutched the edge of the counter so firmly that his knuckles were white. He shifted on his feet one too many times and his jaw was clenched so tightly she could see the stiffness under his beard.

She shifted on her feet, allowing her shoulder to brush his. He turned to her. She tried to reassure him but there was only so much she could do when she herself was extremely worried for Rose. She smiled weakly. He returned her smile with a forced one, daring to caress her hand with his thumb. A small genuine smile crossed her lips then and he mirrored it. As he gazed at her, his relief to have her there was palpable on his face and she only hoped he could see her own relief to have him here as well. After all, he had comforted her instead when she was the one who wanted to comfort him.

Resisting the urge to lace their fingers together, Emilia turned back to check if the receptionist was done checking. She told them the ward Rose was in; a private ward. _Good…_ Emilia exchanged mutually relieved looks with Kit. They thanked her before making their way over. Kit was silent as they walked. Emilia could tell he was keeping his pace measured for her sake and if he was alone, he might’ve ran to her ward.

As they got closer to Rose’s ward, the worry for Rose and anxiety of meeting Rose again was stifling and very nearly brought her to a stop in the middle of the hallway. _What would Rose think, especially when she saw us together? What would Rose say?_ _What can I say? How can I face her?_ Emilia closed her eyes momentarily as they made a turn.

Kit paused and she glanced to him, following his gaze to the lady and a man sitting outside a ward in the hallway. The lady was hunched over, leaning on the man beside her. The lady had long, dark, wavy brunette hair. As they approached them, the lady looked up first.

The lady looked pretty despite the obvious fact that she has been crying, her eyeliner and mascara smudged around her eyes. Emilia watched her eyes light up, hopeful when she saw Kit. But the moment her eyes shifted to fall on Emilia, beside him, the light left her eyes to be replaced by cold hostility. Her glare was so intense, Emilia recognised it as hate.

She stood from her seat as they came to a stop in front of them. The lady was tall, taller than her and almost as tall as Kit.

“Portia,” Kit greeted stiffly. _Rose’s sister._ Emilia immediately recognised the name. She has yet to meet her but has heard about her from Rose many times. Although Rose grew up with many siblings, Portia was the one she grew closest to.

“Why did you bring her?” Portia seethed, her glare unwavering from Emilia.

Kit frowned at her but instead of rebutting, he glanced to her, knowing she would want to reply this on her own. Grateful, Emilia turned to Portia, “I’m worried about Rose-“

“Are you?” Portia hissed.

“She’s my friend,” Emilia replied evenly. Her tone was firm, unwavering even as she tried to keep her eyes from welling up with tears. She has never been good at dealing with hate from others and she hated conflict. She cared too much about what others thought about her, as if her own self-deprecating thoughts were not enough. But Emilia knew that she had to be brave now; if not for herself then for Kit.

“Friend?” Portia spat. When she could no longer stand looking into Portia’s venomous gaze, she allowed her eyes to dart to the side. Emilia glimpsed Portia’s hand raise.

A night flashed across her mind; a night in which she had felt the most terrible person to have ever lived. It was the night she was told that she had hurt the man she loved deeply. It was the night her best friend decided she wasn’t a worthy friend and left her.

Suddenly it wasn’t Portia’s brown eyes she saw but bright blue eyes, similarly filled with hatred.

Emilia could not move much less try to shield herself. She could only steel herself for the strike.

_I deserve it._

She was pulled roughly by the arm and she heard the sound of the strike against flesh, a low thump. But there was no sting.

In fact, she opened her eyes to find herself in the warm comfort and safety of his arms. She gazed up at Kit. His jaw was tensed, his tortured gaze thick with concern, a deep frown on his face, “are you alright?” he whispered thickly, cupping her cheek.

She wanted to nod but before she could, Portia seethed in a low tone, “my sister _loves_ you,”

Keeping her gaze worriedly on him, she saw Kit’s eyes slipped shut, looking immensely tired. His arm around her waist tightened.

“I have _never_ seen her so in love with someone,” Portia continued. Kit did not make to turn to face her and instead, nuzzled into her hair, his eyes still closed as Portia spoke, “she was willing to do anything for you. She was willing to accept all your flaws, your smoking, your drinking, how cold you were towards her, how many times you have hurt her. She fought with our dad for you, did you even know that? I have never seen her so stubborn, headstrong, about something,” Portia’s voice grew shaky, “she wanted to spend the rest of her life with you. She wanted to have children with you. You think she doesn’t know you have been cheating on her?”

Kit tensed and Emilia tried to peer up at him to see his face but Kit stubbornly hid his face against her hair.

“My sister was ready to forgive you for that,” Portia muttered, “no matter how many times I told her that we should confront you about it,” Emilia closed her eyes and burrowed closer against his chest, “do you know how much it hurt her when after all my sister went through and did for you, you told my sister you love _her?_ ” Portia spat, “she cried all night long before she came to terms with it and decided that she would love you anyway. She satisfied herself with the fact that you chose to be with her despite all of that. She wouldn’t fucking listen no matter how many times I told her she deserves so much better than you,”

Kit began to tremble against her and Emilia wanted to wrap her arms around him to comfort him but he was hugging her so firmly she could barely move.  

“You were good once. You made her happy; a fucking dream,” Portia sneered, “but now, you are nothing but a fucking cheating, lying, alcoholic and addict,” Portia spat.

Something snapped in Emilia and she pushed away from Kit as gently as she could in her rage. Kit let her go weakly, staring vacantly at the marble tiles. Emilia glared at Portia, her hands clenched so tightly by her sides they started trembling. Her face and limbs grew hot and Emilia felt she could hit this woman before her.

Behind Portia, the man had a hand on her shoulder and a pleading and defeated look on her face.

“You don’t know the first thing about Kit,” Emilia did not recognise her own voice as she seethed.

“And you think you do?” Portia glared, shrugging off the man’s insistent tugs, “you have no idea-“

“I know him,” Emilia turned to Kit, replying Portia. She watched Kit’s fearful expression slowly fade as he heard her. His eyes tentatively rose to meet hers, filling with hesitant hope as if he didn’t dare to habour hope now, “we made a mistake before,” Emilia tore her gaze from Kit to meet Portia’s hostile one, “by giving up what we had, and we never meant to hurt Rose, ever,”

Portia snorted, “well you have and if my sister does not recover,” she seethed, pointing to her, “I want this to be on _you;_ you backstabbing, hypocritical bitch,” no matter how much she tried to steel herself, she flinched.

Suddenly, Kit took swift, hasty steps past her, lunging for Portia with fisted hands. Panicking, Emilia grabbed his elbow, stopping him in his tracks. She has never seen Kit look at someone like that, “take that back, now,” he growled through gritted teeth.

Unbothered and ignoring him, Portia continued, her eyes on Emilia, “she took you as a true friend when she didn’t dare to trust anyone in this fucked up industry,” Portia snarled, “she trusted you,” she turned to Kit, “she trusted you both, with her heart and her soul. And you both let her down,”

“You don’t know _anything_ ,” Kit growled, his arm tensing under her grasp and Emilia did not dare to let him go, lest he did something to Portia he was bound to regret later.

“I know you will cheat on this whore like you did, on my sister-“

Enraged, Kit lunged forward and Emilia hurriedly stood in front of him, almost stumbling back with how he was barrelling towards Portia, “Kit,” she pushed him back with a palm on his chest, “Kit, don’t,” she cupped his cheek gently, trying frantically to calm him down.

He stopped trying to approach Portia but his glare at her did not soften. Eventually, his eyes fell to her. His hard, angry gaze softened to be replaced by an apologetic look. She caressed him subtly on his chest with her thumb, giving him a meaningful look. _We’re here to talk to Rose._ His eyes slipped shut momentarily and he took a deep breath before speaking, keeping his tone exceptionally even, “is Rose okay?”

Portia snorted and she felt Kit tense under her hand.

“Please,” Emilia said, refusing to look at Portia and be riled up, “we are just concerned about Rose,”

“Don’t you think it is too late-“

“Why did you even call me?” Kit countered, his nostrils flaring.

Portia scowled, “I didn’t think you’d bring _her_ ,” she rolled her eyes at Emilia, “and I know the moment she wake, she’ll ask for you,”

They exchanged a look. _Rose didn’t tell Portia that Kit had ended the relationship?_ Emilia bit her lip. Rose didn’t tell Portia for a reason and Emilia did not want to disrespect Rose by telling her. Instead, she said, “what happened to her?”

Silence.

The man beside her spoke up, “she overdosed on sleeping pills,” Emilia felt her stomach lurched.

Portia scowled to the man beside her, “shut the fuck up,”

“What’s the point of this, Portia?” he sighed.

“How is she now?” Emilia asked thickly. Rose had texted her and Emilia had no idea if Rose was expecting or waiting for a reply. _I ignored her…_ Emilia didn’t know if her reply would have made any difference to Rose. She didn’t know if she could stop Rose. She didn’t know what she would do if anything did happen to Rose now. At this moment, not knowing was a terrible feeling.

“The doctor is keeping her under observation,” the man eyed Portia before he replied evenly. He wasn’t friendly but at least he was talking to them and Emilia appreciated it, “her parents are in there with her. We’re not sure if she has woke-“

The door opened. And Emilia and Kit found themselves face-to-face with a woman who looked uncannily like Rose, but older. She had a stern look on her face as her gaze studied Kit before falling onto Emilia. Emilia forced herself not to fidget as she tried to meet the woman’s gaze.

“Rose is awake,” she said to Portia.

Portia let out a cry of relief, “oh thank god,” a small smile teased the woman’s lips before it was gone and she nodded.

The woman turned to Kit, her lips pressed into a thin line as she said evenly, “Rose asked to talk to you,”

Kit squeezed her hand. Emilia hadn’t even realised when he took her hand. He turned to her, meeting her eye solemnly, a plainly questioning look in his sincere eyes. She nodded, “go on,” she said softly.

Glancing around them, presumably at the Leslies, Kit murmured so softly it was barely audible, “I don’t want to leave you with them,”

 _Oh Kitten._ “I can take care of myself,” she teased in an undertone, hyperaware that they are being watched.

He nodded, a weak smile on his face, “still,” his hand squeezed hers, holding her even firmer. She sighed eventually, nodding. Satisfied, still holding her hand, he turned to enter only to find the woman standing in the doorway. She seemed to be pondering as she studied them before her gaze fell to their joined hands. When her gaze rose to Kit, she glared.

Emilia shifted, uncomfortable with the way they were treating Kit but she trusted him to be strong, as she is trying to be.

Eventually, the woman stepped aside with a defeated look. They entered the room to see a tall, imposing man sitting beside the bed. He was staring right at them and it wasn’t a friendly stare. He studied them not unlike his wife, presumably, “Christopher,” he said stiffly as he stood from his seat.

“Sebastian,” Kit replied monotonously. _Rose’s father._ Their stares were unblinking. It was evident even then that there has never been any love between these two men. Even the thought of that was deeply puzzling to Emilia. _How could anyone dislike Kit?_ She glanced to the man beside her whom she knew has a heart as beautiful as his face. _My dad would have loved you._ Her heart ached, regret sinking deep that Kit has never actually had the opportunity to properly meet her father.

Eventually, Rose’s father looked away with a deep breath and approached them. He shot him a warning look before his gaze, so filled with disdain, fell to Emilia. She instantly felt small and unworthy. She had heard from Rose about her father’s mindset with regards to class. With one look at her, Emilia was sure Rose’s father would surely know that Emilia wasn’t from the same class as Rose or Kit and probably did not think much of her.

“A pretty face,” Sebastian sneered under his breath, his eyes raking from her face to her feet and back again. It was evident he thought that was all there is to her.

Kit’s gaze hardened, his nostrils flaring, “I would expect you to show more respect for women. You have such a strong wife and even stronger daughters,”

Sebastian’s face darkened. He glanced behind them, presumably to his wife before he bristled and walked past them. Emilia’s gaze met his and followed Sebastian out of the room. Contempt lingered in his eyes even as he left the room on the heel of his wife.

Kit and Emilia exchanged a fleeting gaze before they turned to face the hospital bed. She heard Kit take in an audible breath and she understood why. On the hospital bed that looked much too large, lay Rose Leslie.

She was always skinny but she looked like she had lost more weight since Emilia last saw her. Her face was white as sheet, her bright red hair splayed across the pillow. She looked so frail then Emilia felt her heart throb in her chest.

Rose’s face was so pale, so much so that when her thin eyelids fluttered open, her bright blue eyes were alarmingly stark. The fatigue in her eyes was heart-breaking and Emilia felt tears prick her eyes. A lump formed in her throat when beside her, Kit approached the bed. His eyes were filled with worry as they fixed an intent gaze on Rose. He pulled his hand from her grasp and Emilia numbly let him go.

Swallowing words of deep concern for her friend, she quietly stepped back, understanding that he needed to talk to her first.

Kit approached her so carefully as if he was afraid to startle her. Emilia watched as Rose’s eyes blearily scanned the dimly lit room. Her tired eyes settled on Kit. She paused, almost in disbelief before her face lit up. She looked so happy then, guilt began to gnaw at Emilia. A deep chuckle came from Kit as he sat down slowly on the edge of her bed. Rose’s white, chapped lips parted a few times but no words came.

“Shhh,” Kit sounded so gentle, “don’t speak,” Rose nodded, her previously dull eyes now bright and following his every move as if her next breath depended on it. She glanced down and Kit followed her glance to see her hand twitching under the thin cover.

Emilia watched with her stomach churning unpleasantly as Kit scooped Rose’s pale, freckled hand into both of his. His touch was so tender and almost, loving. Feeling something bitter rising to her throat, Emilia swallowed and tore her gaze from them.

“Kit,” Rose croaked, her voice was so raw. Despite Kit’s gentle shushing, she continued, “p-p-please,”

“Don’t worry about it now,” Kit said, his voice thick with emotion. Emilia stiffened, her heart sinking low, “we’ll talk about it after you get better,” Emilia dragged her gaze up from the ground to see Kit brushing aside a lock of her hair. _Kitten?_ She stared at the back of his head, suddenly feeling extremely out of place, like she was intruding on a private moment.

 _Kitten._ Emilia wanted to say. _Kitten, I’m here…_ She bit het tongue. As Kit gazed down at Rose, assuring her incessantly till desperation and worry faded from her eyes, Emilia couldn’t help but feel completely unwelcomed despite having been invited in.

“K-Kit…” Rose whimpered, her hand trembling in his.

“Why are you so silly?” Kit whispered with his tender, velvet voice.

Rose’s eyes welled up with tears, her lower lip trembling as she tried to speak, “I-I-I was-“ she paused, swallowing visibly. Kit let go of her hand to reach for the jug of water and a cup on the table. He poured a cup of water before helping Rose adjust the straw and watching her sip, “I was just trying to sleep…” Rose’s voice broke into a sob, “I needed- I-I n-n-needed sleep,” Kit put aside the water to hold her hand between both of his.

“Oh Rose…” he sighed, “why didn’t you call me? I-I have been trying to-“ Kit paused, “I’ve been trying to reach you. I was worried,” he murmured towards the end, busying himself with adjusting her covers redundantly.

Rose’s eyes darted between his, studying his suddenly uncomfortable demeanor, “Kit,” she whispered. His eyes met hers again.

Kit paused before he said dismissively, “we’ll talk when you have recovered,” he insisted.

Rose studied him a moment longer before she eventually nodded and she sagged against the pillow, her eyes slipping shut.

 _He isn’t going to talk to her._ The realisation was incredibly sobering as it was painful. She couldn’t help but feel abandoned, even betrayed. And the feeling stung more than any other betrayal.

Biting her lip so hard she could have sworn it was starting to bleed, Emilia took a breath and took the first steps of many towards the bed. Rose’s eyes fluttered open when she presumably heard her. When her eyes found Emilia, Emilia watched the way her friend’s eyes welled up with fresh tears.

Rose turned her accusing gaze onto Kit, “y-y-you brought her along,” she whimpered, “why?” she whispered hoarsely.

Emilia glimpsed Kit’s eyes slip shut. His jaw tightened before he lowered her hand gently. _Kitten…_ Emilia bit her tongue. Kit turned away from Rose then, facing her with his back to Rose. She met his eye to see him gazing at her. In his solemn gaze, Kit seemed to be cautioning her. The final guillotine fell onto the last of Emilia’s hope to finally end this complication, like he promised, when Kit shook his head, slowly but surely.

_He doesn’t want to end this now._

Tears pricked her eyes and Emilia hurriedly blinked it away, unable to meet his gaze any longer; a gaze so filled with tender love and concern for another woman, a woman he claimed he loves less than he loves her.

“Emilia,” Rose croaked, “I-I want to t-talk,” she sighed as if saying that simple statement has tired her beyond measure and Emilia supposed it could have, in her weakened state. She gazed to her friend before her eyes met Kit’s. _Don’t._ His eyes told her. _Not now._ His lips pursed under his moustache.

“Okay,” Emilia replied evenly, her eyes on Kit.

He searched her face but Emilia didn’t know how she felt, much less be able to express it to Kit non-verbally. She felt guilt and worry for her friend, unhappiness at and betrayed by Kit for not coming clean with Rose when he had the chance and she felt an urge to shout it all out to Rose and yet, could not bear to subject her friend to the news of recent turn of events.

In truth, Emilia’s head was beginning to hurt.

“Emilia,” Rose whispered, more insistent this time.

Kit tilted his body aside so she could approach the bedside and settle where he had just rose from. Emilia passed him as he stepped away from the bed, closer to her. From the corner of her eye, she could see Kit trying to catch her gaze, his eyes unwavering on her face. But she didn’t dare to meet his eye now, afraid of what she would see then.

Emilia had wished for Kit to give her a sign of what they are now, of what she is to him, of their love. Her entire body yearned for the feel of her lover. It could be a squeeze of her hand, a brush of their skin, even a whisper. Anything.

There was nothing.

Numbly, Emilia settled down in the space on the bed. She did not meet Rose’s eye as she tried to contemplate what has happened.

“K-Kit,” Rose croaked, “c-c-could you leave us?”

Emilia stiffened. She could have sworn the room became even more silent with that request. All three of them have seemingly held their breaths simultaneously. An eternity seemed to have passed without Kit replying or moving from the room. When Emilia finally found the courage to meet his eye, now feeling painfully unsure of what they are and what Kit has in mind, she found Kit already gazing at her. _Milly._ She could hear him calling her.

“I’ll be right outside,” he said, his voice so tender, his gaze even more so.

A moment passed. A stiff acknowledging nod. Her gaze fell to her lap. He did not leave.

A soft exhalation of defeat and fatigue. Then he finally did, walking quietly but steadily out of the room. Emilia did not even glance to him as he left but her heart ardently followed the sound of every one of his retreating footsteps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the positive reception of the previous chapter!! You are all so kind. 
> 
> Sorry about the cliffhanger once again but this chapter was getting ridiculously long and I needed a break from writing this. And I didn't think you guys wanted to wait any longer.   
> Mixed feelings about how this chapter turned out but I suppose it is fitting with all the mixed feelings from the Emmys ;) 
> 
> Anyhow, hope you guys enjoy this and let me know what you think of this! Would love to hear from you :)


	15. Christopher

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Photo credit to Joneryskimilia.together (Insta)/ ilovehinata (tumblr). Thank you for letting me use your edit :)
> 
> Warning: Explicit content

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think they [my parents] could see that I wanted to be Kit, but Christopher was a bit of a tradition. 
> 
> \- Kit Harington (Glamour, 2014)

_Early November 2016, New York, USA._

**Emilia**

The silence in the room was deafening as it was unbearable.

Emilia has never been one to be able to tolerate silence, especially one so thick with tension. Swallowing, she said, “I’m sorry,” Emilia was unable to meet Rose’s eye or even look in the vague direction of her face as she continued, “for encouraging you, all those years ago even if I didn’t really want to…”

Rose replied her coldly, “then why did you?”

Staring down into her lap, Emilia shrugged, chuckling bitterly, “I want him to be happy. I want him to have someone who is there for him, someone who loves him. Being loved is one of the best things that can happen to a person,” she smiled as the recollection of Kit’s tender kiss and loving touch made a shiver run down her spine, “and you love Kit, so well,” Emilia said thickly, “which was why I trusted you, to always love him no matter what happens. But I was stupid to think you could love him on my behalf... I do not expect your forgiveness-“

“Because I do not forgive you,” Rose hissed and Emilia schooled her face against wincing even if she felt like she was struck, “and that is not what I want you to apologise for,”

_The article… Kit’s message to her._

Emilia herself did not see the message and didn’t see the need to request to from Kit. Kit told her he ended it with her and Emilia believed him. There was simply no need for her to read the message for herself. Emilia forced herself to meet Rose’s eye. The sight of Rose, so frail and tired, on the hospital bed, broke Emilia’s heart but she would be brave, and honest. That was what they came here to do; even if Kit didn’t. Swallowing the lump in her throat, Emilia said, “I’m not going to apologise for that,” Rose’s eyes welled up with tears and Emilia felt her own eyes begin to fill, “I can’t,”

Rose shook her head, the agony in her eyes palpable.

“Rose-“

Emilia startled when Rose’s icy fingers grasped her hand in a vice-like grip. Looking down, her pale freckled hand was bone thin and had a large bruise on the back of it, near where the IV needle was still embedded, “ _please_ , Em,” a rasp whisper tore from her throat. Rose used to call her that but stopped after that night after she had hit Emilia. The sound of it reminded Emilia of a time in which they were two women who found an unexpected but beautiful friendship amidst the unpleasantness of work. Emilia remembered how happy she was, how glad, that she met Rose; someone so kind, “I _need_ him,” Rose tugged at her fingers like how her voice did at her heartstrings.

Gazing down at Rose, seeing the tortured look in her eyes as she begged her so desperately, Emilia felt her will begin to thaw.

Then she thought of Kit.

_But who does Kit want? Who does he need?_

Countless images of Kit’s grin from just the past couple of days swam into her mind. She could hear the unbridled joy in his laugh and the sheer contentment in the hum reverberating from deep within his chest as he nuzzled against her. The bright twinkle in his eyes as he gazed at her for much too long was a sight she has not seen for years. And then there was also the small smile that graces his lips as he scooted closer to hide his face into her neck in his sleep. _Now I’m yours. All of me. Everything that I am._ She could still hear him utter her words back to her. She doubted she would ever forget.

Just the thought of leaving him and robbing him of all of that was unbearable and Emilia knew she was physically incapable of doing it. Rose was a close friend and Emilia was loathed to hurt her but Rose could never measure up to the place Kit occupied in her heart. Few people do, “I can’t,” Emilia whimpered weakly, “I won’t hurt him again,”

A meaningful pause fell as she let the implication of her words sink in. Rose’s eyes darted between hers searchingly. Tears spilled from her reddened eyes then, “please Emilia. I’m begging you-“

“Rose,” Emilia interrupted. She didn’t think she could sit there even a second more as Rose pleaded so pitifully, “I just want Kit to be happy-”

“He was happy, with me,” Rose choked out, “until you two started spending more time together. For this season but when this season ends-“ a sob made her choke on her words and Emilia felt her heart lurch at the thought.

“Rose…” her eyes slip shut as Emilia fought back her own tears, “it’s his choice,”

“No, he’s confused,” with her gaze fixed on Emilia, Rose’s hand tightened on Emilia’s and Emilia bit her lip to keep from crying out when her nails dug painfully into her skin, “it’s yours now. You can choose to leave,” Emilia’s stomach sank as Rose finally admitted what she was asking and Emilia could only stare in disbelief in response.

“Do you have the slightest clue what you’re asking of me?” Emilia hated the way her thin voice tremored. _I wouldn’t be leaving just him behind. I would be ripping out a piece of myself and leaving that behind too. How can one leave a piece of themselves behind?_

The hard look in Rose’s eyes was unwavering as she responded, “wouldn’t be the first time you did it,” her cold words stung more than her grip did, “I love Kit, so very much,” Rose’s other hand reached for Emilia’s arm and held her in a bruising grip “I won’t ever leave him. Like you did.”

Shame and guilt gnawed at her then. Emilia felt so inadequate and undeserving that the temptation to simply give up and hide away was overwhelming. _After you have been a coward and have been hiding from everything for so long, even your own feelings, being brave seemed almost an impossible thing._

Then, Emilia recalled the fear she saw in Kit’s eyes when he thought she was going to give them up; give him up. She could still see uncertainty in them as he drew all his courage and told her he was scared to love her because she might leave him again. _I’ll prove to you that you have nothing to be afraid of._ She had told him. _You can’t get rid of me. Even if you want to, even if you try to. You’re stuck with me._ She had only been half-joking but the palpable relief on his face after she assured him was heart wrenching.

Taking a deep breath and trying to be even a fraction of how brave Kit is to love, Emilia shook her head and said, “I love him too, Rose,” she tried to pry her fingers off but Rose’s grip was surprisingly firm, “I’ll take care of him,” she promised, hoping Rose’s grip would loosen but it doesn’t. Her skin was burning where Rose’s nails were embedded. _He chose me and she knows it..._ _If she loves him, she would let him go._

“No…” Rose whimpered, the tears filling her eyes faster than they could fall as her face contorted with despair.

Knowing she has said all she could to Rose, and not being able to bear even another second in her presence, Emilia tried to pry her hand loose. When she was still unable to, terror sank deep in her gut and she turned, “Kit!” a panicked cry.

 _I’ll be right outside._ He had told her.

The door flew open and Kit was by her side in an instant. She watched his gaze flitter across Rose’s firm grip. Emilia could see her own hand slowly beginning to turn purple. Horrified, Kit reached to pry her fingers loose, “Rose!” Kit snapped, his face contorted with worry. He successfully tugged aside the grip on her arm before he reached for their hands. The moment Rose’s stinging grip loosened on her, Emilia twisted her hand away. She stumbled back from the bed in her haste, almost tripping over her own heel but he was there, a sturdy arm around her shoulder as he held her against his side. Her hand was shaking from the pain of Rose’s nails digging into her skin.

“It’s okay, darling,” Emilia looked up to see Rose’s mum cradling her daughter to her chest as she cried. Beside them, Rose’s father glared at both of them.

“No,” Rose’s wail was muffled but no less heart-breaking to witness, “Kit,” she said as she pushed her mother away, “Kit,” her red, swollen eyes found Kit and she beckoned him over eagerly. In her wide, pleading gaze, Emilia knew that gesture meant more to Rose than what she made it seem.

Emilia readied herself for his arm to fall from around her and for him to make his way over. But he didn’t move even an inch. When Emilia turned to gaze up at him, his lips were turned down under his moustache in a deep frown, his eyes studying Rose cautiously.

“Kit, please,” Rose cried, the sobs shaking her frame as she implored.

Kit shook his head, “why did you hurt her?” he asked through gritted teeth from across the room, his tone even but it was anything but calm. His arm tightened around her shoulders assuredly and Emilia felt her own breathing begin to slow as she leaned eagerly into the safety of his arms.

Rose sobbed harder, “I didn’t mean to. Please come here, Kit. I want to talk-“

“We can talk from where I am,” Kit replied.

Rose sniffed, pointedly averting her gaze from Emilia, “y-you didn’t mean that text,” it wasn’t a question.

“Rose…” Kit started, his voice strained, “we can talk about this when you’re feeling better,”

“Why?” Rose choked out.

Kit quietened down as he presumably chose his words carefully, “because right now, you’re not the Rose I know…” It was then Emilia understood why Kit had acted the way he did before. _He did want to tell Rose._ But Rose was not in the right mind to listen and he had known when he saw her.

“No,” Rose wiped at her cheeks frantically, “I am,” forcing a smile, she whimpered, “I’m here, Kit. You didn’t mean it, right? Tell me you didn’t mean that text. You must have been drunk when you sent it, as usual,” she chuckled to herself. Rose’s father snorted.

Kit flinched but Rose was too distraught to notice his discomfort. Emilia gently leaned closer to his side, quietly trying to comfort him. Kit paused and he gazed down to meet Emilia’s eye. His gaze was colder than before. There was a question in them and Emilia let her eyes slip shut momentarily in a silence agreeance and support to whatever he chose. He swallowed visibly before he said, “I’m sorry, Rose. It’s over,” a sob escaped Rose and her mum tried to pull her daughter to her, trying to console her, but to no avail, “it’s better for both of us,”

“No, no, no, no, no, no!” Rose shook her head but was unable to resist her mother’s firm embrace.

“Look what I’ve done to you,” Kit whispered, taking a step back, pulling Emilia close to his side, “we’ll take it that I’ve let you down,” a flash of agony contorted his face as he took the blame upon himself. _Kitten…_ Emilia felt her heart wrench at the sight of his palpable agony. But before she could comfort him, with the arm around her, Kit gently guided her to turn to the door.

“Christopher Harington!” Rose sobbed behind them. Emilia turned to meet her angry glare but Kit did not, “have you forgotten how she left you?” she snapped and Emilia flinched, “and _I_ was the only person who cared about you; _I_ put you back on your feet,” Kit came to a stop and Emilia turned to him, afraid to see even a hint of hesitation on his face. He was already looking down at her, his expression impassive, “one day, she’ll leave you again and you’ll regret it,” Rose cried. Kit’s eyes flittered between Emilia’s. _I won’t._ Emilia told him, her eyes welling with tears as she pleaded for him to believe her. _Trust me, just once more._

Kit regarded her with a quiet calm. For a moment, the room was quiet but for Rose’s soft sobs. Eventually, a small soft smile teased the corner of his lips. His eyes softened. _I trust you._

When Kit did not make to reply Rose, his eyes slipping shut momentarily in defeat and evident fatigue, Emilia turned to Rose, “thank you for loving him,”

Rose’s gaze at the back of Kit’s head hardened to a glare but she did not even glance to Emilia. When they made to proceed out of the ward, Rose croaked, “Christopher,” her voice was thin and barely audible but to those in the room, it was almost deafening; a singularly heart-breaking sound.

Kit tensed. Without a backward glance, Kit muttered, “that’s not even my name,” without pause, Kit guided her out of the ward.

Kit was quiet as they walked out of the hospital but the further they went from Rose’s ward, the looser his arm got around her. She glanced to him when people approached them and Kit’s arm fell from around her shoulder although he kept a hand on the small of her back. It was the middle of the night so there were few people around apart from the staff. Nonetheless, Emilia preferred to think Kit was being cautious.

When they came to the ground floor, Kit gently pulled her to a stop. She turned to him. He tugged her so they weren’t in anyone’s way should they exit the lift before he cradled her hand in both of his. Her skin was still stinging from where Rose had gripped her.

Emilia glanced around to see that they were completely alone before she looked down at it to see four deep, bloody, crescent-shaped wounds on her hand. There were a few light scratches which she presumed she got while trying to pry Rose’s fingers from her. Kit took in an audible breath as he cradled her hand atop both of his. He brushed the curve of her hand with the tip of his thumb, far away from the wound. He hissed as if he could feel the pain of it, “ _fuck_ ,” he muttered, “Milly…” his tortured gaze lifted to meet hers.

“It doesn’t hurt,” she chuckled. He shot her a withering look. _Lie._ She shrugged, “it stings a little, that’s all,”

“I shouldn’t have left you with her,” Kit muttered.

Opening her palm so her hand lay flat against Kit’s, she said sheepishly, “I shouldn’t have agreed to stay to speak to her…” Kit raised a questioning brow, “I know you didn’t want me to but I thought…” she hesitated before she blurted in a breath, “I thought you didn’t want to tell her after all… I thought you were having second thoughts about us-“

Kit’s lips on hers were as welcomed as they were surprising.

His sweet kiss was fierce, insistent. His message came across through the kiss louder and clearer to her than his words could have but he said them anyway when they ran out of air and reluctantly parted, “I love you,” he said softly, his lips still pillowed against hers, “I don’t know what else I can say to convince you…” he whimpered.

She giggled, shying away from his lips. Ducking her head to gaze down, she placed her free hand on his chest, over his heart, “sorry, I didn’t know what you are thinking and what you are feeling. You didn’t tell me,” she muttered the last part, knowing she was being unreasonable but she wasn’t in the mood to take the blame.  

He smiled, “alright, I can tell it to you,” he covered the hand on his chest with one of his, completely solemn, “right now,” he gazed down sadly to her wounded hand, “my heart is completely shattered,” he lamented.

She snorted, “fucking drama kid…” Kit pouted but did not rebuke her. Instead, he studied her wound, frowning deeply in worry, “I’m fine-“

“Come on, we’ll get this attended to,” Kit turned and tugged her along. They considered going to the emergency area to have it treated but Emilia was embarrassed with how small her wound was in comparison to those waiting at the emergency room. So they came to a compromise to purchase a first aid kit for superficial wounds and left for their hotel.

As they entered their hotel room, Kit was still sulking about her not having her wound treated at the emergency room and her accusing him of overreacting. On the way back, Kit has taken to randomly announcing his thoughts and feelings to her; teasing her for not knowing what he was thinking or felt before. And he was evidently still on about it.

His arm encircled her waist and he pulled her to him, “I am thinking… how lucky I am to be able to hold you like this, how great you are, how much it fucking sucks to not be able to do this in public,” he told her, “and this feels so good,” he squeezed her firmly with his arms.

The warm tingle in her belly tickled her and she giggled despite having the piss taken out of her, “shut up,” she snapped, feigning annoyance as she half-hearted shoved him away, making her way into the hotel room.

“I’m serious!” Kit whined. Stifling her giggle, she ignored him and put down her bag and shed her coat, “ok,” she could hear him approaching her, “now I’m getting super worried about your wound and am wondering if it still hurts you, even if I hope that it doesn’t anymore,” she snorted as she felt him bump the back of her head with his head, “I’m pretty worried if I will be able to handle your wound properly too. I’m also wondering if you’d like a shower or a bath. And if you take either, will you let me join you? Or rather, I hope you would let me join you,” he came closer, so close so that the front of his body was pressed to the back of hers, “oh, and I am hoping we would have sex before bed too,” he rambled.

Her face heated up and she giggled loudly, “oh my god, you are so annoying!” she exclaimed.

Kit laughed so hard then his entire body shook against hers, “you wanted to know what I am thinking and feeling... didn’t you?” he wrapped his arms around her waist, resting a palm beneath her navel, as usual.

“Yes but, Christ. I don’t think I can stand another moment hearing about myself,” she blurted. The moment she said it, her cheeks burn. She hadn’t realise it was what made her shy.

Kit chuckled, his warm breath tickling the bare skin of her neck, “well… my thoughts are all you, you, you; Emilia fucking Clarke. What else do you expect?” he kissed her on her neck gently, making goosebumps erupt across her skin.  

“My mum will be so upset that you changed my middle name,” Emilia teased, trying to keep her breath from catching as he nibbled on her skin.

“Fine,” he relented, “Emilia,” he kissed her, “Isobel,” his hands wandered to the front of her shirt, “Euphemia,” his deft fingers undid the top button and his hand snuck into her shirt, “Rose,” he made a face instantly, “ _shit,_ ”

She laughed as Kit buried his face into her neck, “Kitten! My dad will be so terribly upset if he knew you screwed up my last name, or rather his last name,” she giggled.

Kit chuckled, his body shaking, “I can’t help it, for fuck’s sake… I can’t even say your full name without saying-“ he paused. Grunting in frustration, he bit into her pulse point gently; a tender show of frustration. The sensation of his teeth on her skin was giddying and pleasurable and she bit her lips against an involuntary moan. Releasing her, he paused before she felt his tongue dart out to lick where he bit her, soothing her, “well, don’t worry about your last name. I’ll give you mine,” his hand continued its eager journey into the front of her shirt.  

She froze. Grabbing and stilling his hand from slipping into her bra, she turned to look at him. Kit had the decency to look sheepish, “Kit Harington!” she scolded and he instantly looked regretful for what he has said, “that better not be a fucking proposal,” she threatened even as her heart leaped with joy.

He smiled bashfully, “is it that bad?”

“Fuck yes!” she swore, yanking his hand out of her shirt and stepping away from him. He did not dare to step closer.

She glared at him, half in mocked anger, half in genuine rage at his audacity. Kit scratched his beard sheepishly and she felt her anger simmer somewhat at how adorable he looked while genuinely scared, “this is…” he started, “not quite the circumstance that I imagined you to scream those words at me in…”

She paused, caught off guard. Unexpected laughter burst from her lips and she couldn’t stop. _This fucking wanker._ It was then he dared to approach her again, wrapping tentative arms around her. As her laughter quell, she realised how much Kit hugged her while they were alone together, “for fuck’s sake, you’ve literally just broken up with your ex, we’re in a hotel room after a 10 hours flight, I’ve just been mauled by your ex and you have a fucking hand down my shirt,” she rambled on angrily, “no ring, no flowers-“

“I’ve set the mood though,” Kit cut in quickly, eager to redeem himself.

“For _sex_ ,” she rolled her eyes, “not a fucking marriage proposal,”

Kit paused as he pondered and Emilia studied his annoyingly gorgeous face, even while he is utterly confused. He finally met her eye again, “is there a difference?”

She giggled reluctantly. She hated Kit’s ability to make her laugh when she wanted to be angry at him. Recovering, she told him sharply, “yes, people don’t say ‘I wish we would have sex tonight’ before proposing!”

“Some people do,” Kit protested, “and we can start it again if you’d like. I can ask for sex after,” he pouted.

With a sigh of frustration, she pulled away from him and stomped off to the bathroom, grabbing his shirt from his overnight bag and a towel on the way. As she entered it and hung up her towel and shirt, she turned to see him standing at the open door. He gazed at her, a sheepish, questioning yet hopeful look on his lovely, adorable face. _Fuck he looks good._

He bit his plump lower lip and Emilia fought an urge to rush forward to taste it for herself. He raised a brow, seeming to be trying to ask her something and yet not daring to. She raised a brow right back, daring him to speak. Kit swallowed before he asked, having the courtesy to look hesitant, “does this mean I can’t join you in the shower?”

She let out a frustrated cry and reached to close the door soundly in his gorgeous, pouting face. _Fucking hell… I’m so angry at you!_ Deliberately, she locked the door.

She could have sworn she heard a pitiful whimper through the door, “what about the sex later?” he asked loudly through the door.

With great effort, she muffled an explosive giggle behind her hand. 

* * *

 

When she emerged from the shower, Kit was sitting on chair by the bed. On the bed, the first aid kit was open, the needed materials lay out neatly. Kit studied her face cautiously, as if trying to gauge if she was still mad at him. In all honesty, Emilia was just surprised he wasn’t already fully nude by now.

“I’m still mad at you,” she informed him, saving him the trouble.

His face softened, “I’m sorry, Ms Clarke,” he pouted, his eyes wide and apologetic.

His wide _Kitten_ eyes were looking moist, dark, disarming and absolutely endearing. She snorted, rolling her eyes. _Cheap tactics._ She huffed as she turned away from him and the way her heart softened. Trying to towel her hair dry, Emilia pulled out a pair of clean knickers from her bag and pull it on. In the vanity, she glimpsed Kit ogling her, his wide eyes staring at her arse, “why are you wearing my shirt?” he whined weakly. She knew then the sight of her wearing his clothes was taking effect on him.

“I didn’t bring something to sleep in,” she replied simply. It was true. Kit always slept in the nude but always insisted to pack clothes to sleep in, for reasons that evaded Emilia. So she thought, she might as well put them to use and decided not to bring her own sleepwear.

Kit’s smile was so wide it was contagious, “so don’t wear anything to sleep,” he looked abnormally pleased with himself.

She ignored him and his smile faded, “I’m still mad at you,” she reminded, keeping her tone painfully even.

Kit pouted and she fought the urge to go over to him to hug him and kiss his hair, “can I fix your hand?” he asked, putting on his best pitiful expression.

Emilia tried her best to ignore it as she made sure her hair wasn’t dripping. Tossing her towel aside, she got up onto the bed, opposite Kit. Smiling, Kit reached for her wounded hand. He cradled her hand, wincing as he caught sight of her fresh wounds. Washing in the shower had hurt like a bitch but Emilia refused to cry over it.

“Tell me if it hurts,” Kit told her gently as he reached for an ointment from the first aid kit. Pouring a little on a cotton swab, he gently dabbed at her wound. She whimpered audibly and Kit leaned down, gently blowing on her wound to soothe the sting, “sorry,” Kit put aside the cotton swab before he reached for a small roll of bandage and wrapped her wound up.

She watched him work meticulously. Then she asked him, “don’t you want to know what we spoke about?”

Kit glanced to her but kept his eyes focussed on treating her wound as he replied, “of course I do,”

Emilia’s gaze fell to the bandage Kit was trying to secure as she told him, “Rose asked me to leave you. She- begged…” her voice trailed off. Kit’s eyes darted up to hers and he searched her face. Shaking his head, he cupped her face with his free hand, “I told her I won’t,” he smiled, his thumb brushing her cheek before he tucked her hair behind her ear.

“So… Mrs Harington?” he grinned. She scowled to conceal her urge to grin right back, “I like how it sounds,”

“No, fuck off,” Emilia rolled her eyes as Kit secured her bandage. She pulled her hand back and tested it. It felt comfortable.

Kit pouted, “why not?” he pushed aside the first-aid box and leaned closer.

She shied away, scooting further back onto the bed, “for one, that was a shit proposal,” to her amusement, unfazed, Kit left his chair and crawled onto the bed. She added then, “and I like being a Clarke,” she felt the pillows against her back and lay back against them.  

Kit crawled over her, slipping his knees between her legs and she let him, parting her legs on either sides of him, “Clarke-Harington then,” he grinned, “Emilia Clarke-Harington. I like the sound of it,” he dipped his head lower. His curls fell onto her, forming a curtain around them.

“I don’t,” she rolled her eyes, failing to fight a smile as she lied. His curls tickled her face and she swallowed a giggle. Reaching up to tuck his curls behind his ear, she admired the way his face looked as the bedside lamp casted soft shadows across his beautiful features. The thought of calling this man her husband made her giggle. The thought of being a wife to this man made her so happy she felt giddy and Emilia thought she could float right out of her body.

Kit narrowed his eyes at her playfully, making his deep set eyes appear even more mesmerising than they already are. He smiled as he leaned down to kiss her. His cheeky tongue slipped into her mouth and a soft involuntary moan escaped her. He grunted as he lowered his hips to hers, slipping his arms under her to hold her. She could feel the prominent solid shape of him against her knickers, “Milly,” he groaned haltingly as she lifted her hips and eagerly grounded herself to him.

She felt herself grow wetter and sighed. She felt extremely fatigued and now, courtesy of Kit, incredibly horny to top it off, “Kitten,” she whimpered against his lips, wrapping her legs around his waist.

He hissed as he lowered a hand to unbutton his jeans. He lowered the zip. She craned her neck and peered down to see him struggling with his jeans and pants. With a huff, she pushed him back so he knelt back. She sat up. With her legs bent around his thighs, she tugged his jeans and pants over his bottom and down to just above his knees. His semi-hard length sprung free and she ducked her head to take him in her mouth. The taste of him was heady on her tongue.

With her lips wrapped around the head, she hollowed her cheeks, “Oh f-fuck,” he grunted and she felt moisture seep onto her tongue. Grinning, she allowed her teeth to scrap his girth, putting pressure on a bulging vein. Caressing up his already quivering thigh, she cupped his firm bottom with both hands. She had teased him about how hairless he was there and Kit had been ridiculously proud of it. She squeezed him firmly as she brought his length to the back of her throat and held him there, “ _fuck fuck fuck_ ,” he chanted through gritted teeth and his bum tensed in her hands.

He did not thrust into her mouth, save the occasional, involuntary buck. Kit was always gentle and careful with her. He has never once taken advantage of her while she was in such a vulnerable position unless she asked for it.

And that only made her all the more eager to give him more. She established a rhythm, swallowing him to the base eagerly again and again before he grew fully hard and would be too large to fit. As she drew back to the growing head, she allowed the tip of her tongue to tease the slit and the swollen ridge on the bottom of it. He throbbed before his slit started weeping drops of clear liquid. Eagerly, she lapped them up. He tasted divine, with a hint of sweetness and she moaned softly. His groan was so loud then that Emilia felt a blush colour her cheeks as she worried if they would wake their neighbours.

She loved how vocal he was in these moments, men rarely were. His deep throaty groans made her wetter than any amount of attentive ministration could, “Emilia-” he grunted as he tangled his fingers into her hair. She took his length to the base repeatedly and he twitched. Smiling, she reached between his legs to caress the heavy, velvet sacks, “oh god,” he panted, “fuck, fuck, fuck!” he cried as he hit the back of her throat, throbbing intensely. She knew then he was close.

The want to taste and feel him on her tongue was only curbed with the need to feel him tremble and expel into her. She let him go audibly and kissed the bobbing head to a stop. She licked her lips as she gazed up at him. His head was thrown back and he was visibly panting towards the ceiling. He shivered visibly as his eyes opened to meet hers.

He sighed, “oh Milly,” he dove down to her and kissed her eagerly. Her fingers found and wrapped around his curved length, stroking him firmly. He grunted. She felt his fingers tweak her already hardened nipples through his shirt she wore before his hands slipped down to pull down her knickers, “Christ,” as he removed her knickers completely, he showed her the sodden patch.

“Your fault,” she shot back.

Kit smirked before he brought her knickers to his mouth and licked the sodden fabric. She froze, her hand tightening on his rigid length as she stared, transfixed by the sight. He groaned haltingly, “you taste so good,” his eyes darkened as he gazed down at her. He tossed aside her knickers to push her back against the pillows. His hands grasped her legs to throw them over his shoulder as he settled on his stomach between her legs. He lapped at her hastily, humming as he tasted her before he dove down to cover her with his plump lips. He sucked strongly. Starburst filled her vision, electricity shot through her body and a cry escaped her.

She bucked unwittingly against his mouth, “Kitten…” she squirmed, grasping blindly for leverage on the bed. Her wandering hands found his hands then and he laced their fingers together. His tongue darted out to tease her weeping, aching entrance before he lapped her moisture on his way to the swollen nub, “Kitten,” she tugged on his hands insistently, yearning to have him in her.

His eyes fixed on her for a moment. He pressed a kiss to her bundle of nerves before he got up to kneel on the bed. One of her leg still over his shoulder, their fingers laced together, Kit positioned himself at her entrance. The swollen head of him brushed her entrance, slipping along her slit to brush her nub.

She wiggled her hips, barely able to contain her excitement and Kit chuckled, “hold still my darling,” he bit her lips as he positioned himself with his hips once more. With his head against her entrance, he thrusted but the slippery head of him, coated with her moisture, slipped up again.

“Kit,” she huffed, exasperated. She yanked her hand from his and reached for his length. Guiding his curved length, she pulled him into her.

He groaned louder than she did when he stretched and filled her, blissfully pushing against the pleasurable spot on roof of her wall; sending electricity racing down her spine to her toes, “god, you are so _fucking_ wet,” he hissed. Leaning over her and letting her leg fall from his shoulder to wrap around his hips, he nuzzled against the side of her face and kissed her ear, “do you know how good you feel?” he grunted as he thrusted languidly into her, “fucking hell,” he panted, his tongue licking her ear.

A loud, drawn out moan slipped from her lips as he hit _that_ spot in her over and over.

“Milly,” he whispered, “I love you,” she wanted to respond but the words died on her tongue when he thrusted firmly into her, “look at me, darling,” he kissed her flushed cheek.

She complied, with great effort. Her head felt so heavy she felt intoxicated. His eyes were completely black as he fixed her with a piercing gaze that seemed to be seeing right into her soul. A sigh left her lips and she bucked her hips to meet his thrust, squeezing him to try to keep him in her desperately.

“I’m going to cum if you keep squeezing me like that. Fuck,” he grunted, squirming.

She half-giggled and moaned as she panted, “why are you talking so much?” she giggled, amused, and her belly started to ache.

He grinned, not slowing in his thrust in the slightest, “y-you said you don’t know what I am t-thinking,” he grunted. _And even during sex he wants to take the piss out of me._ She giggled out her moan and Kit laughed at the sound, “I love hearing you moan when I’m in you. It gets me so fucking hard. Can you feel how hard and thick I am?” She laughed tentatively. No one has ever tried to dirty talk to her but she could feel exactly that; how hard he was, how his thick length stretched her wonderfully and the way the tip of him brushed the back of her, the way he pulsed and twitched inside her, “it’s all your fucking fault, Milly. That’s how much I want you. You are so fucking beautiful,” Emilia found herself fighting the urge to moan, “Christ, your walls are soaking wet and so tight,” he hissed. She bit her lips as she felt herself become wetter as he talked to her while sliding into her over and over, “you’re so wet you’re soiling the bed. Oh god, do you know how much I love tasting you? Why do you taste so fucking good…I want to taste you but I also want to be in you,” he whined.

She giggled loudly then. She couldn’t help it. Kit has always been big on whining and complaining but even during sex-

“God, should you even be laughing…” Kit’s thrusts slowed and she forced her eyes open to see him pouting.

She could see the uncertainty in his eyes and she grinned, cupping his bearded cheeks as she drew him in for an open-mouthed kiss. With her mouth, she showed him just how much she was enjoying herself. For a grand finish, she licked him playfully, catching his chin and jaw. She felt his grin before his lips closed around her tongue, sucking eagerly. She moaned when he teased her tongue with his own in his mouth.  

“You like that?” he asked, his eyes twinkling eagerly, “the talking,” she nodded shyly, “you filthy girl,” she smiled. _Your filthy girl._ His gaze fell to her smiling lips, “I love your lips,” he whispered.

“Do you like them around your cock?” she asked teasingly, feeling her cheeks warm. She was alright with saying sexual innuendos but being explicit in bed was something she could barely do without blushing.

He was evidently surprised, “fuck yes,” he grinned when he recovered. Smiling, she let her hands roamed his firm torso, feeling him through his shirt. To her surprise, he grabbed her hand and laced their fingers together before he pushed her hands into the pillow by her head. He lowered himself till his lips were right beside her ear, whispering in his deep, velvet voice “I want you to feel my hot, thick cum all over your tight, wet pussy,” she whimpered, her walls shaking around him, “would you like that? Do you want me to come deep inside you?” The words sent shiver down her spine and made her toes curl at the wonderful imagery he provided. She moaned in response, “Milly, I want to hear you say it,” a rasp whisper.

“Yes,” she panted, barely audibly.

“Yes what?” he leaned down, nipping the shell of her ear and her legs began quivering around his hips.

“Kitten, fuck…” she groaned, her cheeks burning at even the thought of uttering something so filthy. He stilled suddenly and she whined, “oh please don’t stop,” she gazed up at him but he was smirking at her expectantly. Leaning up to kiss his sweet lips, she whispered, “I want you to come inside me,” her cheeks were probably bright red.

“Good girl,” he grunted, thrusting into her with renewed vigour. She felt him hug her to his strong, solid form, “Milly, you’re mine,” he kissed her neck thoroughly, “all mine,” his arms tightened around her, not unlike her walls around him, “and now,” he found her lips, “I’m all yours, and only yours,” she sighed blissfully, “we’re finally together again,” he grinned, “we belong together, we always have, since the beginning,” she hummed her agreement and pleasure as the tension below her navel peaked. He moaned softly as he buried himself firmly to the base, the tip of him kissing the pleasure spot deep in her.  

She came with a loud wail, her body shaking uncontrollably, “Kitten!” she cried as her body twitched in the crippling aftermath, her walls pulsing intensely.

“Oh Milly,” he grunted as he continued to plunge deeply into her relentlessly, “my balls are hurting so bad,” he whispered into her ear as she sagged against the bed, trembling, “fuck I have so much cum…” her breath hitched in her chest as her body coiled in anticipation for the sweet sensation of his thick copious warmth, “I’m going to fill you up, you’ll feel it dripping out of you tomorrow,” she moaned as she reminded of that incident in the van when she did feel him seep out of her the next day. It was the most erotic thing and it turned her on more than it should in an entirely inappropriate situation.

He groaned and she felt the first spurt of his cum hit her, sending bolts of pleasure to the tip of her toes, “fuck!” she wailed as her body seized her unexpectedly and she felt herself shatter around him. Her body did not feel like her own as it was tormented with crippling waves of unrelenting pleasure. When she regained awareness of her body, Kit was shaking atop her as much as she was. Beyond the first spurt that made her come, she didn’t feel much of the others but she felt utterly filled with his sweet release, and was immensely satiated.

When she met his eye, they burst out laughing.

“Motherfucking hell,” she panted. His semi-rigid length was still twitching eagerly and for a moment, Emilia marvelled if he still had more left in store for her.

“What a filthy mouth,” he breathed.

“Says you!” she whispered, narrowing her eyes as she regarded him in a completely different light, “what did you do?” awe filled her eyes as her leg, no better than a prosthetic limb at the moment, twitched in the aftermath of her mind-boggling orgasm.

Kit grinned, looking ridiculously pleased with himself as he shrugged, feigning nonchalance and looking arrogant.

 _I love you._ She laughed, “fucking wanker,” she shook her head in disbelief. His grin did not even falter as he dove down to nuzzle his bearded face into her neck, tickling her skin. His neck was flushed from his exertion and she kissed him, tasting the saltiness of his skin. She giggled then, giddy with adoration for him as she wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him to her, “I love you,”

“I know,” he whispered smugly.

Scowling, she craned her and nipped his earlobe playfully. A pained whine escaped him. Grinning, she kissed him fiercely on his bearded cheek.

 

**Kit**

He could not wipe the grin off his face as they landed in Seville.

“What are grinning about?” she asked, her own lips curved into a smile. _Her lips are beautiful…_

He turned to her as they collected their bags. Since he came clean with Rose that night, Kit felt as if a huge weight has been lifted off her shoulders. And as he gazed at the gorgeous woman beside him whom has his stomach doing ridiculous backflips and his heart racing every time he saw her, he felt incredibly happy. He saw her and he saw a whole future with her, something he very much looked forward to. It delighted Kit even more when he realised it would never be perfect and it may even be incredibly difficult, and yet, he couldn’t wait to go through all of it; as long as they did it together. He doesn’t remember ever feeling so eager for life, “you,” he replied honestly.

She rolled her eyes, “glad to know I amuse you by existing,”

It was then Kit felt the unexplainable but constant urge to wrap his arms around her, “not amuse. You make me happy by existing,” he contented himself by placing a gentle hand on the curve of the small of her back. He simply adored her curves. Kit knew it was ridiculous and probably his imagination but he delighted in how his hand matched against the curve of her back.

A small smile she tried to hide crossed her face, “charmer,” she pursed her lips but Kit knew he had pleased her and he was incredibly pleased with himself.

It was then Emilia’s phone went off. She dug into her back as Kit arranged their bags to be transported to their car waiting to pick them up just outside the airport, “hey Liz,” Emilia smiled as she greeted her publicist cheerfully. Kit chuckled, admiring her a moment longer before he decided to check his phone as well. He always lost track of time when with her, resulting in him forgetting to regularly check his phone, as advised by both his publicist and his manager.

Noticing eight missed calls in the first instant and a whole load of unread messages from both whatsapp and text messages, Kit checked the calls to see that his mum and Marianna has phoned him the most. It puzzled him to see that Jack, Dan and James has all phoned him too. Then he proceeded to the messages. Marianna has left him a text message so Kit quickly opened it.

**Hi Kit, tried to contact you but couldn’t get through to you. Heard from David and Dan you travelled to New York with Emilia. I assume you haven’t got back and haven’t been keeping up with the tabloids. Anyway, when you arrive back in Seville, you will probably be swamped with paparazzis and people asking for autographs. DO NOT answer or react to any of their questions. Ignore them and head straight to the car. DO NOT give them any reactions. The tabloids will have a field day if you do. Tell Emilia to do the same. Contact me when you get back to the hotel in Seville.**

Kit froze, his mind racing for what could have happened. Inwardly, he wished Marianna have warned them of what questions they can expect from the paparazzis or what came out in the tabloids recently. When he looked up from his phone, Emilia has already hung up and was staring at him. She looked as stunned as he felt and Kit knew that Liz probably told her the same thing Marianna texted to him.

“Kit…” her voice sounded so small then Kit wanted to hug her so badly but he knew they couldn’t. Not here when there were so many people around them. Kit could have sworn he already caught some fellow passengers staring too long. Kit was already extremely recognisable by himself but with her, now filming the seventh season, the two of them together were basically walking advertisement for Thrones.

“It’ll be alright,” Kit told her, maintaining a brave front for her when inwardly, he was terrified. She searched his face before she nodded, “what did Liz tell you?”

“The tabloids… they know we travelled to New York and an insider saw us at the hospital,” Emilia replied him in an undertone, extremely aware of anyone listening in, “and we were-“ she broke off, giving him a meaningful look.

 _I kissed her._ He did so when she told him she thought he was having second thoughts about them. He had been so riled up by that simple suggestion that he had kissed her. His thought then has only been for her; to prove to her that he loves her and only her. Kit felt no regret kissing her, he would never. He only regretted being impulsive and doing so in public where they could be, and evidently were, spotted. He closed his eyes momentarily, “I’m sorry…” he began.

“It’s not your fault,” she frowned, biting her lips as she brushed her hand against his subtly. His skin tingled where she touched him and Kit craved for more, “I enjoyed it too…” she smirked and despite their predicament, Kit chuckled. _This girl… this amazing person. My person. She can make me laugh no matter what we are going through…_ Kit was absolutely convinced then that whatever came their way, they’ll survive it as long as they were together.

“I want to kiss you so badly now,” Kit whispered.

Her eyes twinkled, “and give them more to write about?” she teased.

Kit rolled his eyes, “fuck them,” he complained. Then a thought came to Kit and he froze, his fingers turning cold at the mere thought, “Milly…” she raised a brow, concerned when she presumably picked up on his tone, “you don’t think the Leslies did this, do you?”

All humour and playfulness left Emilia’s face as she pondered. Chewing her lower lip, and tempting Kit, she eventually spoke, “I don’t think so, Kit. According to Liz, we were seen while we were still in the hospital. I don’t think they could have gotten someone there in time to-“

“What if they are the inside source?” Kit asked.

Emilia paused, “Rose wouldn’t…”

“Rose isn’t well, and Portia more than wanted to get back at us,” Kit frowned. He could tell the thought disturbed Emilia deeply but he didn’t want her to be oblivious. He wanted to share anything he thought of; truth or a mere suspicion, “Rose knows how to use public relations and she does this very well. She owes it to her family background in politics. She used them more than once when we were together…” his voice trailed off.

Emilia’s brows rose in sympathy the moment she heard him, “oh Kitten, I’m sorry…” she, of all people, shared his disdain for paparazzi in her private life. If anyone would understand his annoyance with a partner who called on the paparazzi almost every time they stepped out, she would.

Kit shook his head dismissively, a bitter taste settling in his mouth at the simple thought of Rose’s latest attempt back in October when they were still in Belfast. They have went out for lunch together after Kit drunk himself under the table the night before. Kit hadn’t even noticed the paparazzi, not expecting to have his photos taken by them in Belfast. There was no reason to because in his six years filming in Belfast, before Rose, he had never been stalked by paparazzi in Belfast. It was only the occasional fan photo request that he hardly minded.

“Anyway, it’s a possibility. If not Rose… probably Portia,” Kit sighed.

Emilia shrugged, “it wouldn’t be a huge surprise given how much she loves us,” she said dryly.

Kit took one look at her deadpanned expression and chuckled. Dry humour was unbecoming of her and Kit could only credit himself for her growing sense of dry humour, “Marianna advised for us not to answer or react to any of their questions,”

“Liz said the same thing,” Emilia nodded, her gaze fixed on him meaningfully.

Kit raised a brow, “what?” he said defensively and she giggled, making him smile, “I’m not going to react,” he said, determined.

“Oh really?” she teased. He frowned, feigning an offended look when a smile tickled the edges of his lips. She grinned, “what if they called me a home wrecking bitch?”

Kit bristled, “I’ll break his fucking face,” he scowled darkly, “you are my home,”  

She paused, evidently caught by surprise before a light blush coloured her cheek. Kit adored her constant tendency to blush even after how close they have gotten, “and you are mine,” she whispered so softly he hardly heard her. He fought the urge to brush the back of his fingers to feel her warm cheek when she giggled, “I think that is exactly what Liz and Marianna don’t want,”

Kit snorted, “if they are being that rude, they deserve it,” he protested.

“They probably do,” Emilia mused, “but you shouldn’t break anyone’s face, Kitten. You might as well tell them, yes I am in love with Emilia Clarke,” she told him in a whisper.  

Kit rolled his eyes, “I would break the face of anyone who insults you,” he hissed, “and I _am_ in love with Emilia Clarke – what’s wrong with that?” his face was a picture of indignation.

She giggled and Kit felt his belly warm up at the sight of her beautiful smile, “you probably shouldn’t announce it without discussing it with Marianna,” Emilia teased.

“The only person I should be discussing this with is you,” he told her firmly, “we would inform Marianna when we have decided. She can advise us on how we can do what we want to do,” he turned to her to see her gazing at him in awe and slight disbelief.

Then they came to a stop as they caught sight of the entrance. It was jam-packed with paparazzi. Emilia quietly dug into her bag for her sunglasses. Kit sighed when she pulled out his and handed it to him. Inwardly, he was relieved she thought to bring it for him. He hated the flashes and a glare would probably count as a reaction in this fucked up industry. Kit grumbled inwardly as he shoved his sunglasses on. To make this whole experience even more unpleasant, he knew he should, under no circumstance, never hold her hand; the thing he was dying to do.   

An escort from the airport came to help them get through the crowd and help them with their bags. As their escort double-checked the number plate of the transport scheduled to fetch them, he went ahead and Kit fell behind with Emilia. He felt her hand brush his and as he fought the urge to take her hand, she leaned over, whispering, “and I am in love with Kit Harington. You heard it here first,”

He chuckled, keeping in step with her. With his heart fluttering happily in his chest, the steps up to the entrance was easy enough to take. Until the automatic doors slid open and the flashes blinded him. Instantly, he kept his head down and glanced to his side to see Emilia moving forward calmly, a small smile on her face. Seeing how calm she was, Kit managed to school his face into that of a calm indifference. It was the only expression he can manage as he marvelled at Emilia’s patience with them.

“Emilia!”

“Kit!” Kit fought the urge to react when someone shouted his name with a thick Spanish accent, sounding more like Keet than Kit.  

Beside him, he could have sworn he heard a soft chuckle from her. An unwitting smile spread across his face. They got a few request for autographs and those were the ones getting closer and bolder as they shoved posters in front of them. He glimpsed Emilia reach for markers to sign a few just so they would back off. Stemming the urge to put an arm around her shoulder to shield her from them, he absently took a marker near him and signed hastily.

He side-stepped, keeping close to her as he tried to return the marker.

Feeling her arm brush his arm as they walked was comforting to him. That was until the paparazzi started speaking, “Hi Kit,” Kit did not even acknowledge, much less smile. He did not trust himself to even start reacting, “Hi Emilia, you look so beautiful today,”

“Thank you,” Emilia replied, lukewarm but polite with a small smile on her face and they kept walking.

“Is it true, what was reported, between you and Kit?” the pap probed.

Emilia did not even make to reply but even if she did, before she could, more questions came.

“You two were spot kissing in New York, does it mean you two are together now?”

“What about Rose Leslie?”

“Why did the two of you travel to New York together?”

“Kit, what about Rose? Are you two still together?”

“Are you cheating on Rose?”

“Emilia, are you still friends with Rose Leslie? Did you seduce Kit and steal him from her?”

Kit almost snorted at that question but refrained, with great effort.

At this point, the flashes were a constant and annoying fixture and there were so many questions that kept coming in never-ending barrages that it was physically impossible to answer a single one without being interrupted anyway. They made it to the car and Kit checked with the driver briefly before he opened the door. He reached for Emilia but managed to refrain from touching her and gestured her into the car instead.

That was when she jerked to a stop, turning back to tug at her scarf. Kit craned his neck to see that a paparazzi had the other end of her scarf. He glared at him before barrelling his way between them, “whoa,” the paparazzi commented, “you seem protective, Kit. Are you and Emilia together now?” Emilia managed to tug her scarf loose then and scooted into the car. Kit pushed the door close, relieved she was finally safe.

Refraining from glaring at the paparazzi, Kit made his way to the other side of the car. Paparazzi slowed his progress, walking backwards in front of him, trying to get as many photos as they could and get as many questions in as physically possible. Kit almost scoffed at the fact that even if he were to mutter a reply, they probably wouldn’t hear it. “Do you love Emilia, Kit?”

 _Fuck yes._ Kit could answer that question definitively and he knew it would be proudest and surest answer he have given in any interview by far. But he bit his tongue.

“Did you choose to leave Rose for Emilia?”

“Are you two officially together now?”

“How has working with Emilia been like?”

“Did you fall in love with her filming Season 7?”

“Did you go to New York to break up with Rose? She’s filming a new show there isn’t she?” Kit stiffened.

Kit opened the door hastily the moment he got to it and slid into the seat. The moment he got in, he slammed the door shut, uncaring of any paparazzi he might have snagged. The car took a while to move off, with the paparazzi surrounding their vehicle, trying to take pictures through the tinted glass.

He reached for her hand but Emilia shook her head firmly. Pursing his lips, Kit refrained and fisted his hand on his lap. The moment they started moving in earnest, Kit pulled off his sunglasses. His eyes were throbbing and he could still see the flashes. He closed his eyes, sighed and massaged his nose bridge.

Then he felt a gentle hand on his head. A finger brushed hair from his temple before it gently massaged his temple in small circles. He sank back into her touch before his eyes opened. She had removed her sunglasses as well and was gazing worriedly across at him.

“You reacted…” Emilia started, feigning nonchalance.

Kit glared at the car seat in front of them, “he touched you,”

“No he didn’t,” Emilia said and Kit felt his defensiveness grow but the sight of her soft smile stopped him, “I think my scarf snagged on his camera bag…”

“He probably did it on purpose,” Kit muttered, still angry at the gall of the man.

She laughed, stroking her fingers through his hair. Silence fell between them and Kit indulged happily in her tender, calming touch, “I think… we did pretty good,” Emilia grinned. Kit snorted. He hardly saw this as an achievement, “hey…” she said softly and he turned to her, “we’ll be doing this a lot in the future…” her voice trailed off meaningfully.

Kit realised she was right. They would definitely be badgered heavily for a while in the near future if and when they decide to announce their relationship to the industry, when they get married, when they have kids… _Our little Muffin or Muffins._ A strong protectiveness came over Kit at that thought. He thought he could commit murder if Emilia was heavily pregnant and the paparazzi came so close like they did today, crowding them. _Fuck and if either one of us is carrying our little Muffin and they threw their questions at us like that…_

Kit felt enraged, helpless and fearful all at once. _Life… is fucked up._ Kit sighed, disgusted.

He felt her slip her small hand into his and Kit glanced down before he turned to her. A small, helpless smile was on her gorgeous face and Kit felt some of the panic and fear begin to abate. _She’ll be there._ Kit reimagined those moments he just did, but this time, he would be hugging her close to his side, he would be holding her hand and he would be nuzzling her hair anytime he wanted, or needed.

He smiled, “yeah…” a goofy grin stretched his face, “we did good today,” he agreed. Squeezing his hand, she giggled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaand with that, we are moving forward. Also, with regards to the future of this fic, I do have a few plot-points I want to cover with Kimilia being together. So even if we are hitting the 18th chapter, which some of you noticed is where I usually close off the Verse, we just MIGHT exceed that for the last verse! I'll keep you guys updated and feel free to let me know if you want more or just 18, with Kimilia together, will do. 
> 
> Thank you for the overwhelming response last chapter! Hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	16. Statement

_November 2016, Seville, Spain._

**Kit**

“Kit Catesby,” Kit perked up instantly. His mother never used that tone unless she was completely serious, “be honest with me. Is it true?”

Kit frowned, “mum… what are you-“

“What I heard about you and Emilia,” his mother demanded, “is that true?” his mother sounded agitated. Kit knew his mother was fond of Emilia and less than fond of Rose; mainly because she didn’t think Rose was compatible with him. However, his mother also raised him to have strong morals, especially regarding faithfulness and loyalty. So truth be told, Kit had no clue what his mother might say about him and Emilia now.

Kit glanced over to Emilia to see her already looking at him. They have just returned to their hotel in Seville from New York. The moment the door closed behind them, Kit had snatched her up into his arms and obstinately kept her there, revelling in the feel of her giggles shaking her petite frame. He had pressed sweet kisses to her face to make up for all the moments they have spent together in which they could not. To his delight, instead of denying him like she usually did, she met him full on the lips. He was in the midst of ridding her of her clothes when his phone rang.

Kit thought it would be Marianna, after she has seen the paparazzi photos of the two of them at the airport. The speed at which Publicists gain information has always amazed Kit. More often than not, Marianna found out things faster than he did or expected her to but Kit supposed he should not be amazed. After all, he hired her for that very purpose and she was serving it all too well.

Regardless, it turned out to be his mother. As supportive as she was, his mother was not nearly as well-informed as Marianna. Or so Kit was led to believe.

“Um...what did you hear?” Kit asked.

“Don’t avoid the question,” his mother said sternly, “is it true or not?”

Taking a deep breath, Kit said, “yes, it’s true,” a pregnant silence filled the phone line. Kit drew back to check if his mum has hung up. She hadn’t. A sort of relief washed over Kit, having come clean with his mother.

“Have you broken up with Rose?” his mother asked him.

“Yes,” Kit replied. This he could answer, and proudly.

“Have you asked Emilia?”

Kit frowned, puzzled, “what?”

“Have you asked if she would be your girlfriend?” his mother asked.

His face warmed and Kit blinked. His mother has never asked or interfered in his relationships like this before. Kit wished so badly to be able to see his mother’s expression, “ummm,” Kit could not even meet Emilia’s eye now. In truth, he hadn’t. With how close they are now, it hasn’t even crossed Kit’s mind that he needed to ask her that. They have done almost everything _but_ spelled it out explicitly like his mum was now asking about, “mum…”

“Yes or not, Kit,” the no-nonsense tone was back. _God, the next thing I know my mum would ask me to make an honest woman of Emilia…not that I haven’t tried._ He recalled his pitiful attempt back in New York that was met with nothing but her ire. As sweet as Emilia was, Kit resolved to never be met with that because of his own stupidity again.

“No…” he whimpered out.

“Kit Harington!” his mother snapped.

“Mum… we haven’t had time for that,” he whined weakly.

“I raised you to be a gentleman and take the initiative. Not having the time is a poor excuse. If you can’t even take some time to do this one thing, how can a woman entrust her life and happiness to you? Her future,” Kit sighed as his mother continued, “I want you to ask her as soon as possible, like a real gentleman,”

Closing his eyes and wishing the floor under him will open up and swallow him whole, Kit muttered, “yes mum…” then it came to him, “mum… you’re not upset? That I left Rose…” _for Emilia._

A pause. His mother chuckled, “no, Kit. I’m not upset about it,” a breath of relief left him. Kit hadn’t even realised before now that he wanted his mother’s approval, “you weren’t happy with her. Not like you were with Emilia. I still haven’t figured out why and how you and Rose came to be,” Kit chuckled. His mother always used to say _a mother knows_ , and it never rang truer than now, “are you happy?” she asked him.

Kit’s gaze automatically searched for Emilia, the source of all of his happiness in the past few months. She was still gazing at him, her large eyes filled with pure, genuine concern. She was looking at him so intently that Kit wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t notice if someone walked in at that moment. Her adoration for him was plain in her soft gaze and Kit only wished his gaze conveyed all his love for her like hers did with her love for him.    

She often looks at him like that but in the past, she would avert her gaze when he looked over at her so he could never be sure if he imagined it. Now, she seemed to have lost all inhibition and in the little things like the way she looks at him, Emilia was honest with him at a level she hadn’t been before. He smiled at her and a gorgeous smile lit up her face. His heart skipped a beat. _Fuck, I want to kiss you so bad,_ “of course I am,” he told his mother, his tongue moving on its own accord and his voice came out in a bit of a sing-song daze.  

Her mother laughed, “may I talk to Emilia please?”

Kit blinked, wondering how she knew. He covered his phone with his hand before mouthing to her, “my mum wants to speak to you,” hoping against hope that she would be alright with it.

Emilia raised a brow in surprise but smiled and nodded, reaching for the phone without a hint of dismay or reluctance. Kit smiled at her. _My darling Milly, thank you._ He handed her his phone. Without hesitation, Emilia enthused, “Hi Deborah!” her grin widened at whatever his mother said to her. Kit gazed at her. _You are truly the best I have ever and will ever do, if how well you get along with my mother is any indication._ “Oh he’s okay,” Emilia shrugged. Kit raised both brows, giving her a meaningful look. _Okay? I think I have been more than okay!_ Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her to him, ducking his head to mock a glare. Not intimidated in the least, she giggled, “yeah, don’t worry about that Deborah. I miss you too, and not just the amazing food you cook, I swear,”

Kit could hear his mother laughing heartily over the phone before she spoke, incoherent to Kit’s ear.

“Yeah of course! We would be having some time-off for sure,” Emilia smiled, not meeting his eye as she immersed herself with chatting with his mum, “I’ll discuss it with Kit,” his mother said something then, making Emilia laugh, “thanks!” Kit pouted, starting to feel left out with how long they were chatting, and on _his_ phone. He ducked his head, to nuzzle against her warm neck, “oh for sure. We will. Please don’t worry yourself over this,” he pressed his lips to her soft skin, “I’ll let you know how it goes,” a whine escaped him as he nibbled on her neck, tightening his arms around her, “these things could go on for a while, at least until they get tired of us,” Kit licked the spot he just nipped and her voice hitched. Kit grinned, pleased with the effect he had on her, “yeah… she wasn’t well. We’ll tell you more when we meet. I hope David is well,” Kit was vaguely aware of her asking after his father as she tried to nudge him away, fighting the smile at the corner of her lips. He grinned, dipping his head back to kiss her on her pulse point, “yes, she’s well. My dad… he-um- passed a few months ago,” Kit paused. By his proximity to her neck, he detected the way her breath hitch and how she swallowed effortfully before she continued, “no no, I haven’t told you before now…”

Kit pulled away to press a lingering kiss to her soft cheek. He got a whiff of her sweet scent then. Grinning cheekily, he licked her extensively across her cheek.

As he expected and hoped, Emilia shrieked, “KITTEN!” she blinked and said hurriedly, “sorry Deborah, Kit-“ she paused and listened. To his surprise, she giggled loudly, “alright, I’ll see you soon. We’ll talk then. You too, Deborah,” Kit smiled and reached for the phone but Emilia stared at him, “she hung up,”

Kit’s jaw dropped, “what? Is that really my mum you’re talking to?” he rolled his eyes, “and not your mum…” 

She nodded earnestly, “I would think so. She said you’re probably wilting from the lack of attention for the last one and a half minutes and advised me to shower you with some love to prevent a full meltdown,” she recited, giggling, and Kit rolled his eyes and snorted. But he wasn’t found complaining when Emilia showered him more than a little love and attention in the next instant.

When his lips felt completely swollen and thoroughly kissed, his lungs burning from the lack of air, they pulled apart reluctantly to rest their forehead against the other. He hummed, happy and satiated as he relished in the feel of Emilia’s fingers massaging his scalp methodically.

“Happy now?” she teased.

“Mmm so so so so _so_ happy,” he whispered, brushing the tip of his nose to hers, “snogging is fast becoming our favourite pastime,” Kit grinned, stealing a quick kiss.

She laughed, “I would say love-making is the favourite,”

“I wouldn’t call it a pastime,” Kit grinned, his body tingling at the reminder of it, “more like a lifestyle,” 

Her giggle made his arms tighten around her meaningfully. Dipping his head down to her, he kissed her sweet smiling lips. Without missing a beat, he bent and swept her off her feet, feigning to choke on his next breath with the effort required. She laughed, taking his teasing in her stride. He grinned at her, licking the hollow of her throat. He walked them to the bed, “Kitten, no,” she lamented, “I’m still sore,” she pushed him away by his chest but he whined pitifully and she stopped, giggling.

He brought her to the bed, putting her down gently in the middle of it. Hunched over her, he asked, “what did mum talk to you about?”

“That is between the two of us,” she smirked. He pouted but she did not relent and Kit threw in furrowed brows to complement his pout. She giggled, “she asked about how we are going to handle the press…”

Kit frowned then, “I suppose she read it in the tabloids…”

“I thought your mum doesn’t read the tabloids,” Emilia muttered.

“I thought so too…” his voice trailed off. They exchanged a look, both worrying over how far the news have spread. Kit glanced between her eyes before he decided to ask her, “Milly… I am going to ask Marianna to release an official statement to announce my separation from Rose…”

Her brows rose, “I’m sorry…” she whispered, cupping his bearded cheek with her soft palm, “that the press is involved. And that it has come to this…” of all people, Kit knew Emilia would understand. He has lost count of the number of times they have moaned to the other about the press poking their noses in their private life. Their disdain was only matched by the other’s.

Pushing his cheek firmer into her palm, Kit replied, “I’m not. Not their involvement in the separation,” he covered her hand with his, “if it wasn’t for Rose, I wouldn’t have announced our relationship. It didn’t feel right and I didn’t want to but it was what Rose needed...” he shook his head, “god and especially, not like that… not in front of the paparazzi…” his face twisted in disgust as he recalled how puzzled he had felt when Rose was being exceptionally pushy and affectionate. And then he noticed the paparazzi. He had grew anxious and he had told Rose then and tried to escape the scene in a taxi but Rose had smiled simply and tried to kiss him. When he realised Rose was the one who called them, without asking him, Kit felt as if she was a person he did not recognise then and it was the worst feeling ever.

When he met Emilia’s eyes again, her gaze was incredibly soft and sympathetic and Kit knew Emilia knew exactly how he felt or, at least, she felt his distress. She smiled weakly at him and feeling her tender touch, Kit sank gratefully into the comfort she was offering. Utterly relieved to have her there, he sat with and shared his distress. _This is how a real relationship should be. This is the feeling I want to return to when I go home every day._  

“You have my full support,” she said, replying to the official statement he told her he was going to release and Kit smiled. She needn’t say it but Kit was grateful to her for doing so anyway.

“Thank you, Milly,” he pecked her lightly on her forehead. Grinning, she playfully shoved him into the space on the bed beside her. Kit chuckled before he hurriedly wormed his way closer to her. With their foreheads pressed together, their fingers intertwined and his leg touching hers, he asked, “so… what do you want to do about the news of us being spotted kissing?” he glanced down to her lips but resolved to be solemn about this despite the presence of his biggest distraction before him.

She pondered momentarily before she said, “I don’t know,” she admitted, sighing.

“I’m sorry…” Kit blurted, knowing he had everything to do with it by kissing her in the first place. In times like this, Kit wished he was less impulsive. He felt he wasn’t usually like this but around her, Kit felt could barely control herself; everything he felt because of her just feels so overwhelming almost all of the time. Nothing could calm it but acting on those feelings. Kit completely blamed it on being a hopeless romantic.

“No,” she shook her head, telling him firmly, “I thought we have already established that I needed that kiss just as much, if not more than you did,” a light pink hue coloured her cheeks. The sight of her blushing as she admitted that to him told him that it took more than a little courage for her to admit that to him. And with that, his already large amounts of adoration for this one person only grew. He chuckled, brushing the back of his fingers across her cheek, sneaking a feel of her warmth. His reaction seemed to encourage her when she blurted, “I adore your kisses,” her voice was hoarse from the effort of keeping it soft. Kit liked it; the feeling that she was telling him how she felt as a secret.

Kit grinned, nuzzling himself closer to her as his middle tingled and Kit felt an urge to curl up around her and stay there forever, “I adore kissing you,” he pressed a feather light kiss upon her prominent brow.

“Aren’t I a lucky gal?” she giggled, burying her face into his chest.

Kit hummed, his heart so light he felt like he was flying, “I’m the lucky one…” he croaked barely audibly. He wanted to scream it but his ego stopped him.

“What was that?” she grinned up at him. He rolled his eyes but her lips brushing his adam-apple had his eyes truly rolling to the back of his head. He had a retort ready at the tip of his tongue but when he felt the tip of her tongue trailing a path to the hollow of his throat, the retort slipped past his mind into oblivion, “Kitten, what did you say?” she whispered against his skin, her warm breath making goosebumps erupt all over his body.

He felt her soft, pillowy lips kiss him before she lightly sucked the tender skin on the crook of his neck. He sighed, biting back a moan. His mind racing as it began to entertain the tantalising possibility of making sweet love to her. He sucked in a sharp breath when her fingertips danced across his muscled chest, teasing his sensitive nipples through his tight shirt before they began unbuttoning his shirt. All the while, her lips never left the sensitive skin of his neck; sucking, kissing, nipping, licking. When his shirt was completely open, she sighed; a happy sound. Her palm splayed themselves on his bare torso, one over his heart, one on his abdomen, trailing its way down to his navel.

A grunt emerged from the back of his throat when she trailed a single finger down the trail of hair beneath his navel, her nail lightly scratching his now heated skin. His entire body tensed with anticipation as her finger hooked onto the band of his jeans, tugging it lightly to brush the thatch of hair under it. Kit thought she would do him the favour of unbuttoning his jeans but she does not. Instead, her gentle fingers trailed down his jeans, scratching his erection insistently through the denim. He stopped breathing when she moaned a soft, halting moan.

Then she stopped. Her fingers left his groin as did her warm palm over his pounding heart and her lips at his neck. All gone.  

His eyes flew open.

She grinned up at him, “what did you say just now?” He pouted, his lips remained obstinately closed. _Fucking tease._ He throbbed desperately in the confines of his jeans, yearning for her touch. A twinkle in her eye was seen before she shrugged, “alright then,” she made to withdrew completely.

 _Fuck, no, please God._ “I’m the lucky one,” he said quickly, but loudly enough this time.

She paused. A winning smile slowly spread across her lips and Kit felt regret sink deep into his gut, “what? That was too quick,” Kit pouted. She casted a sultry gaze down to his aching groin before she met his eye again. It was the look she always gave him before she finished him in her mouth, down the back of her narrow throat. He felt his pants moisten just slightly at the mere thought of it. She raised her brow expectantly and automatically, his mouth blurted, “I am the lucky one,” his eyes fixed on her, pleading silently.

“Ain’t that the truth,” Emilia laughed. It wasn’t her usual giggle that Kit preferred but he cherished her laughs all the same. His eyes eagerly took in the way her eyes crinkled at the edges, disappearing behind her bunched up cheeks, “good Kitten,” she pursed her lips against giggling as she teased him relentlessly.

Kit snorted before he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to him. She giggled, fighting him even as he trapped her firmly against him, “you’re cruel,” he whined, his lips against her hair.

She grinned up at him, biting her lower lip and all the air was stolen from his lungs, “Kitten…” she started, hesitating, “I think I don’t want to lie and hide what we are,” Kit paused, loosening his arms around her as she grew solemn. The twinkle in her eyes as she gazed up at him remained as she continued, “as much as I want to protect this precious thing we have between us,” she placed a gentle hand on his chest, over his heart, “I don’t want to tell the press that I am single when my heart and my body belong to you,”

A smile etched onto his face and stayed. For how effortful smiles used to be for him, Kit could not wipe the smile off his face now even if he tried, “I feel the same… I wanted to tell that pap so bad that I love you, very much. And at the same time, it is not any of their business, is it?”

She grinned, “no, it’s not,”

Kit pondered for a moment, gazing at the face of the one person who holds his heart in the palm of her hand, “well… I can’t tell the press I did not kiss you when I did, and I enjoyed it very much; too much actually,” he grinned cheekily, dipping his head to kiss her. She giggled but relented to kiss him back, “and I do want to keep kissing you, paps or not,” he whispered.

“Then,” she kissed him before pulling away, “we’ll tell them and that’s it,” she cupped his face, her eyes holding him with such adoration that for a moment, Kit believed he was precious, just like her, “after that, this will be our life and no one else’s,” it sounded immensely liberating and Kit could not wait to get the statement out there this instant just to begin with said life.

* * *

 

As it was expected, Marianna and Liz arrived in Seville later that day. And both of them were contacted by their publicists for a meeting. Both of them were asked by their publicists to meet privately before the joined meeting but both firmly declined, insisting to meet their publicists at the same time and save them both having to repeat the exact same thing. Liz managed to book a small, private meeting in the hotel and Kit was strangely at ease as he and Emilia made their way over.

Double checking the name of the room, they entered to see Liz and Marianna already sitting at a round table.   

Marianna and Liz seemed to have been talking when they stepped in, a small smile on their faces. When he met Marianna’s eye, Kit narrowed his eye, feigning a suspicious look, “what?” he asked, “not you two too… gossiping about us behind our backs,” he mocked a deep sigh.

Emilia chuckled beside him, nudging his rib with her elbow. _Don’t be a dick._ Her amused gaze said and he couldn’t help but smiled at her, a delightful tingle sparking in his chest. She proceeded to take a seat and Kit followed her, sinking into the seat beside hers, “hey Liz,” Emilia beamed, reaching over to squeeze Liz’s hand.

“Hey, how are you holding up?” Liz asked softly, her eyes studying Emilia.

Kit smiled, thankful Emilia has a publicist who was so attentive towards her and tried to put Emilia’s wellbeing first in the chaos of it all. Emilia leaned closer, smiling as she assured Liz that she was fine. When Kit turned to Marianna, he found her looking at him with a knowing but disapproving look on her face, “what happened, Kit?” Marianna asked, raising a brow.

The question seemed to have caught Emilia’s and Liz’s attention as they broke apart to turn to him. Kit looked to Emilia, delving into her soft tender gaze before he replied, “Rose and I… haven’t been the happiest couple, you know that. It was only a matter of time,” he was truly happy when he had finally break it off with Rose, over the text and then face-to-face. But now, relating it to another person, Kit felt like a failure on some levels. After all, he was part of this unsuccessful relationship and every couples always said things never just fall in line and that it was hard work that kept it all together. _Does this mean there was something wrong with me?_ That he was incapable of making a relationship work-

He felt her small hand slip into his, squeezing his fingers. _You have my full support._ He gazed down to their hands and squeezed her back. _I love you._ He tried to tell her, in the way his fingers clung onto hers and the caresses of his thumb across her knuckles. With that simple gesture, the glimmer of self-doubt faded away; enough for him to continue.

“Anyway,” Kit took in a breath, “it’s over between Rose and I. And I-“ he paused, “we,” he glanced to Emilia. The look she fixed on him, so full of faith, bolstered his thin courage, “want it out there, without a doubt,”

Marianna raised a brow, “are you sure?”

Kit understood her apprehension. Making official statements like that was not to be taken lightly and especially something so controversial such as a separation. It would surely stir up a lot of gossip and negative impressions would surround around either, or both, parties for while. But the moment Marianna asked him, the first thing that came to Kit’s mind was: _yes, I would do anything it took to be hers; only hers and no one else’s. In the eyes of the press, fans and even strangers_. _I want to be hers._ “Yes,” Kit replied. The look in Emilia’s eyes shifted and Kit could have sworn he saw her eyes grow moist.

“Alright…” Marianna sounded hesitant, “do you want to write an official statement of separation, or do you want me to do it?”

“You can do it,” Kit said, “I just want it to be absolute; without a shadow of a doubt,”

Marianna nodded, intertwining her fingers pensively as her eyes darted down briefly to his lap, where their intertwined hands lay, “and what about…” her voice trailed off as her gaze shifted between them meaningfully.

 _We are together now. And we will be for the rest of our lives._ That was what Kit wanted to say but he bit his tongue, suddenly very aware of the fact that he has yet to make it official by asking her, like his mother all but demanded for him to as soon as possible. Kit then mused over his mum’s reaction if they had decided not to take the plan-B pill a few weeks ago and be off the pill these few weeks. _She would fly off the handle, completely. And then be completely thrilled._

Wondering how best to put this, Kit interlocked their fingers, relishing the feel of how her little hand fit in the palm of his. She did not fight his touch or resist when Kit raised their joined hands from his lap to above the table. He could not contain a proud grin that spread over his face then. Glancing to his side, he was pleased to see a small smile on Emilia’s lips and a light blush colouring her cheek.

“Shit,” Liz and Marianna uttered in unison. Kit supposed he should appreciate that they had the courtesy to do so under their breath and not cuss blatantly across the table. But the softness of it did not cushion his surprise.

Kit blinked. His first reaction was to scowl and _scowl_ he did. He knew then he would do so to anyone who reacted as such to them and the sacred, precious connection they shared. Second thoughts of announcing their relationship bloomed all over Kit’s mind like flashing warning signs then. He didn’t know if he wanted to put what they shared out there anymore. It would be at the mercy of ruthless scrutiny and countless criticism. Every ounce of Kit’s being objected to it. To him, a love so pure and unwavering should be handled with utmost care and cherished. Not flaunted out to the public like that where it may be battered with disgusting slander. And from people whom had no business knowing in the first place. He wanted everyone to know and yet, didn’t want to have to face their criticisms and reactions. But one could not happen without the other.

Kit’s lips parted to snap at them both but before he could, Emilia spoke, her tone much more calmer and her words easier on the ears than his would have been, “is there something wrong?” as tactful as she sounded, Kit could detect the stiff defensiveness. He was heartened then to know she was as protective of their love as he was.

“Em,” Liz sighed after she finally got over her surprise, “no offense but this isn’t the best time or the best thing for you,”

Kit stiffened. His heart sank. Automatically, his fingers weakened on her hand that he suddenly didn’t think he deserves to be holding. _I know._ He almost blurted. _I am hardly the best for her. Look at her. She is the best of me. She has always been and she will always be. And I am probably being fucking selfish-_

For how much his fingers weakened, her grip grew stronger, firmer and Kit felt her warmth seep into his chilling fingers.

“And I don’t think this will bode well for Kit too,” Liz added, seemingly entirely oblivious to how they both felt.

“No it wouldn’t,” Marianna nodded wholeheartedly.

Her thumb began to stroke the length of his finger comfortingly and Kit gazed down at their hands, marvelling at how interwoven their fingers were around the others; how inseparable.

Liz continued, explaining, “you know how it would look if Kit were to announce his separation from Rose and then for the both of you to announce your relationship together,” she sighed, “regardless of the truth, no amount of explaining will turn the minds of the masses away from the assumption that; you both cheated on Rose and with the report of you two seen kissing, you decided to come clean,”

“There is honestly a special amount of hate and disdain people have for those who cheat on their partners and even more hate for the third-party,” Marianna added.

Every inch of Kit was tensed with a sort of indignant anger and he very nearly shot to his feet in objection. But Emilia’s tender caress stopped him and Kit could just barely manage to stay seated to listen.

Of course he was very much aware of the fact that Liz and Marianna was already portraying the situation in the least offensive language possible. The tabloids would use worse terms than that, “it wouldn’t be good for either of you,” Marianna said softly, as if her tone could cushion her words and what she was trying to tell them.

“I don’t care what people think,” Kit spat. He was so upset and angry that his tensed shoulders began to tremble.

“You should,” Marianna said matter-of-factly, “your career depends on it,” Kit glared at her but Marianna wasn’t one to back down and that was why Kit stayed with her all these years. His mother also approved, insisting he needed a firm hand to steer him in the right direction even with him kicking and screaming, “actors wouldn’t need publicists otherwise.”

“It’s a mistake,” Kit said through gritted teeth, “Rose is a mistake and we loved before her,”

“The truth wouldn’t matter. You two didn’t announce it before Rose and the cheating would be what the tabloids will write and what the fans will believe-“

“So pay them,” Kit snapped, impatient.

“We can,” Marianna nodded, “but they will write in the favour of whoever pays them more,”

Kit felt his fingers and toes turn to ice. A lump grew and lodged itself in his throat, making it hard for him to breathe, much less talk. _Fuck._

“Rose wouldn’t,” Emilia croaked beside him and Kit knew that only he could hear the uncertainty, fear and heartbreak in her voice at Marianna’s careless suggestion, “she wouldn’t do that. To me, maybe but not to Kit,” Emilia’s hand tightened on his and Kit gripped her hand back. She turned to him and Kit met her gaze to see pleading desperation. His heart lurched when he realised the state of her, worried and flustered, was all for him, “she loves him. Rose would want the best for him, she wouldn’t do anything to hurt him-“

Kit cut in then, “maybe she doesn’t love me even a fraction of how much you love me,” he forced a defeated smile. _My lovely Milly. And only you have always put me first. What did I do to deserve you?_

A shuddering breath left her as she pondered his words.

“We could reach out to Rose. Maybe come to an agreement that would be better for everyone” Liz started. Kit tensed, knowing what she would suggest next, “do you think Rose would be open to discussing this?” he dragged his gaze from their hands to see Liz staring right at him.

“I don’t know,” Kit replied evenly. _I don’t care._ His gaze turned onto Emilia, now anxiously chewing on the thumbnail of her free hand. _I only care for you._ “We’ll pay the tabloids to write what we want,” Kit turned to both their publicists, “how much do you suppose would be sufficient?”

Marianna shook her head, “it’s hard to tell. It’s safer to meet with Rose to come to an agreement. Better yet, to release a joint statement of your separation,”

 _She would never agree to that._ Kit pursed his lips, wanting so badly to hug Emilia to him now. He needed her. With her in his arms, he knew that whatever it is, things will turn out alright eventually. Nothing seemed too difficult for them to overcome when she was safe in his arms, “ **no** ,” Kit said and to his surprise, Emilia said the exact same thing the same time he did. He blinked, turning to meet her eye. She seemed just as surprised as he was. Turning to find Marianna’s lips pulled so thin it was barely visible, Kit asked, “what are my options?”

Marianna sighed, “you could do the joint statement. It would be the best,” Kit ignored her, “or,” she exhaled through her nose, “we could release a statement of separation from your end-“

“We’ll do the latter,” Kit stated.

“But,” Marianna said and Kit tensed. He could tell from her tone that he would not like what she was about to say next, “we would deny any rumours between the two of you,” every fibre in Kit objected to that, “as far as the press and the public are concerned, you two are very very good mates. Nothing more,” her eyes darted between them.

Angry tears filled Kit’s eyes as he even entertained the possibility of not just hiding their love but outright denying its very real and palpable, existence. There was something nauseating at even the thought. As much as Kit has always wanted a relationship away from the public eye, he would never consider hiding his love for her like some shameful secret. Sure, he preferred for his relationships to not overshadow his work and career but he wanted people know that she was his love and that he belonged to her as much as she belonged to him.

“It’ll only be for a while,” Liz quickly chimed in, seemingly sensing the sheer objection radiating from him, “until it is acceptable for Kit to come out with a new relationship,”

“How long?” Kit asked, his voice strained.

Liz shrugged, “at least until the news of your separation from Rose blows over. Could be months,”

 _Months? Months of meeting with you only in hotels and our homes. Months of not being seen in public alone with you unless we have a reason to be seen together. Months of fighting the urge to hold you or kiss you every time I look at you. Months of pretending I don’t love you when I do; so fucking much._ His gaze crept to Emilia, almost afraid of what he might see in her eyes. But all he saw was the same trepidation, dismay and helplessness he felt. Her eyes were red-rimmed but there were no tears. Kit was sure she was doing much better than him when welled up tears clouded his vision. _You deserve to be held, and kissed and loved; more than I can ever give you._

She exhaled, defeated before tearing her gaze from him to look down into her lap.

“It wouldn’t feel very long and you two would be working on the publicity for Season 7 of Thrones so you two will be together most of the time. And before you know it, you’ll be working on Season 8; filming together,” Marianna said but it barely provided Kit any comfort. _How can I pretend you are my best mate when you have never been only just that?_ Kit almost laughed when he recalled the years they spent trying to convince the public and themselves that they were only just best mates, nothing more. It was agony and it only fed the longing he felt for her. _And even then, people speculated and rumours about us together were everywhere._

“Alright,” she said, a sigh.

Kit tensed, feeling the first tear fall. He was ashamed to be crying but he couldn’t help the tears. From the moment she told him she loved him at Cavehill, for the first time in years, Kit felt free. He felt like himself and it was one of the best things he has ever felt. He had since spent months living a life he is proud to be living and a life he can call his. He loved it. He spent nights imagining his future with her. In his dreams, even the distasteful paparazzi felt bearable with her hand in his; the anxiety of attending a premier of his own movie was manageable with her small waist in his arms; the constant fear of being critique for not just his work but his very person was small in the grand scheme of his dream of being an actor. He couldn’t wait to start living his life again.

And now, it was like he has, once again, found the boundaries of the cage he has been happily frolicking around in, thinking he was free of it.

The disappointment was searing in his chest and Kit fought the urge to sob.

_We have already lost so much time. I want her. I only want her! WHY IS IT SO FUCKING DIFFICULT? Why do I have to pretend that I don’t want her, to pretend that I don’t love her? I already pretend for a fucking living. I gave my heart and my soul to my work every single day. What else do you want? DO YOU WANT MY WHOLE LIFE TOO-_

“Kitten,” the squeeze of her soft warm hand was sobering. The weight and feel of her shoulder pressing against his made him lean into her. When his temple found and connected with the warm skin of her forehead, Kit sank against it gratefully, “it’s okay…” she whispered, her voice velvet on his jarring thoughts, “it’ll work,”

 _We’ll make it work._ Kit thought.

He glimpsed her lips curve into a smile at the corner of his eye, “yeah,” she chuckled. He hadn’t realise he had said it aloud but he was glad he did.

She leaned into him as he did onto her until he felt like he could catch his breath. Then he wiped hurriedly at the tears in his eyes, ashamed but Emilia squeezed his hand reassuringly and he found he could bring himself to meet Liz’s and Marianna’s eye. Liz looked sympathetic but Marianna looked simply resigned, “tell you what, I’ll do you both a favour and draft up that statement to announce your relationship in advance. Or marriage…?”

Emilia giggled. At the sound of that, a chuckle escaped him, “we’re not going to make it even more difficult for the both of you,”

“Oh thank god,” Liz feigned a huge sigh of relief to which Emilia rolled her eyes.  

“One of these days, I’m going to fire you,” Kit turned to Marianna, saying deadpanned.

Emilia scoffed, slapping his arm in disapproval but Marianna laughed; amused by him bringing up their usual banter, “go ahead, you won’t last two days,” she snorted, her usual comeback.

“I’ll be a househusband,” he gloated, grinning goofily at Emilia. This would be his new comeback from now on and he couldn’t be happier to have it.

Emilia looked pitifully at him, “our poor house,” she sighed, “our poor children,” his heart leap at her casual reference to their future home and their future family. Little cherubic faces filled his mind; curly dark brown hair, large blue-gold eyes, little button noses, pink plump lips. Their cheeks flushed as they raced around in the garden by a stream, chasing ducks. Kit could hear their raucous, joyful giggles already.

Marianna and Liz laughed. Emilia smirked at him, evidently pleased with herself but there was a softness to her gaze. Kit mocked a scowl, fighting the urge to pull her in for a kiss.

“And to think I’ll be breaking my back out there trying to feed all of you,” Emilia rolled her eyes.

Kit’s grin was so wide, his cheeks were starting to ache, “I’m sure you’ll do a smashing job with Liz at your side,” he teased. Unwittingly, his hand came up to her cheek, the back of his fingers brushing her jaw. His heart was bursting with affection for her and it took all of Kit’s will not to pull her into his arms for a cuddle.

She giggled out a snort, “you’ll spoil the little Muffin,” she chided gently before she paused, visibly blushing when she presumably remembered Liz and Marianna’s presence. Her lips pursed and she ducked her face down.

Kit chuckled, bringing the back of her fingers to her cheeks to sneak a feel of their warmth. Dipping his head, he peered at her blushing face. He loved the sight of her with her cheeks pink, “if she resembles you in any way, I definitely will,” he whispered, delighting in the way her cheeks begin to redden even more.

Trying to hide her face from their publicists, her brows knitted as she glared at him, glancing to Marianna and Liz meaningfully before her eyes darted down.

“I love you,” he mouthed. The words came out in a soft whisper and he grinned when her glare intensified as did her furiously blushing cheeks.

Marianna and Liz both cleared their throats, rather loudly and unnecessarily in Kit’s opinion. Emilia blinked and righted in her seat, trying to keep herself from blushing, which caused her to blush even more as a result. Kit smiled, unable to tear his gaze from her. She looked so lovely in that moment. He reached over in her lap to hold her hand firmly. She glanced down but resolved to look towards their publicist.

“Well, back to business,” Marianna said. Emilia nodded solemnly. Kit smiled, brushing her knuckles with his thumb. He watched, satisfied when the edge of her lips twitched and she pursed her lips against it, “it would be best if you two would speak to David and Dan about this as well. HBO would appreciate being kept in the loop about this. And I’m guessing they would have a thing or two to say about this new development,”

Emilia sighed and Kit frowned, not liking the way the furrows between her brows deepen, “we will. Thanks Marianna,” she forced a smile.

“Kit?” Marianna said.

“Yeah?” Kit murmured, turning his face towards her but his gaze was still fixated on Emilia.

“Are you alright with that?” Marianna huffed out, sounding amused.

“Yeah,” Kit nodded. When Emilia turned to him, she blinked, surprised to see him already staring at her. He smiled at her, his smile widening when she giggled. Her hand came up to his face, pinching on the tip of his nose gently and he grinned, revealing neat rows of white teeth. But upon her softly chiding look, Kit tore his gaze from her to meet Marianna’s and Liz’s amused ones, “I completely agree with Clarke,”

Emilia giggled beside him.

* * *

 

After they have told their publicists, Emilia and Kit both thought that it would be easier to speak to David and Dan about this. But both of them found themselves fighting their anxieties as they wondered how they should even request to speak to them. Apart from the fear of having broken some clause they missed just by being with another co-star, they dreaded the teasing they knew David and Dan would probably subject them to. Also, there was no way to predict their reaction. The two executive producers were as unpredictable as anyone they knew.  

“No,” Emilia groaned, “nuh uh, not a chance,” she turned away from his pouting face obstinately. Kit had all but begged for her to be the one to call David and Dan out for a chat.

“Come on, you’re their favourite,” Kit whined, putting on his best puppy dog eyes as he reached for her hands, “everyone knows that,” he muttered before she could deny. They were sitting cross-legged on the hotel bed, facing the other.

“That has nothing to do with this!” she scoffed even as she let him take her hands and play with her fingers, “you do it, they wouldn’t even suspect a thing if you were the one to ask them,”

Kit groaned, “no,” he whimpered softly as he keeled forward till his head touched her abdomen. She chuckled, her free hand coming up to gently push his head away, “you do it,” he nuzzled into her belly.

She giggled loudly, shoving him away in earnest, “get off,” she said half-heartedly.

Grinning, Kit buried his face into her lap. Pulling his legs out from under him, he lay his head onto her lap, gazing up at her. He pulled her hand to his face, pressing and nuzzling his bearded cheek into her soft palm. He could tell she loved feeling his beard, and his hair. Her small smile widened just so, her amusement plain for him to see despite her attempt to hide it and be serious about this, “please, Milly,” he whined, his voice soft and shaky.

She gazed down at him, her eyes soft and warm with adoration. A winning grin begin to spread across Kit’s face. _Sucker._ Then she said, the adoration in her eyes not diminishing in the least, “rock, paper, scissors. Loser calls,”

Kit blinked, caught by surprise. He studied her for a sign that she was only joking but she was completely serious. It was the determined look in her eyes and the challenge in her tone that sparked off his competitive streak. Kit shrugged, feigning nonchalance, “your loss,” she rolled her eyes, “because you’re going to lose-“

She raised her free hand and Kit did so too.

“ **Rock, paper, scissors,** ” they said in unison.

Paper.

Paper.

“ **Rock, paper, scissors,** ”

Scissors.

Scissors.

She rolled her eyes but Kit was completely focussed, bent on winning.

“ **Rock, paper, scissors,** ”

Scissors.

Scissors.

“You must be fucking kidding me,” she scoffed.

“Rock-“ Kit continued. _She wouldn’t put scissors again and it’ll probably be rock, given she has already chosen paper._

“ **paper, scissors,** ”

Paper.

Scissors.

_Fuck._

“Who puts scissors three times in a fucking row?” Kit scowled darkly, demanding.

Emilia’s grin then lit up her whole face, hiding her lovely eyes, “a winner,” she chortled, “a winner, Kitten,” she squealed so happily that she nuzzled her nose along the side of his. Despite his dismay of losing, her happiness was incredibly contagious and Kit found himself fighting a chuckle at the sight of her like this, so happy. Suddenly, she kissed him, full on the lips. Her kiss was fiercely passionate, and too brief. Pulling away, she giggled and sound of it made him chuckle, “call David,”

He groaned, “2 out of 3,”

“No, sore loser,” she grinned, ruffling his hair, “call David now,” she grabbed his phone from beside them on the bed and tossed it on his chest.

He took one look at her and knew he was not getting out of this without her teasing him for the rest of his life for being a sore loser. He sighed deeply before plucking his phone from his chest to look for David’s contact. He searched sullenly, sticking out his lower lip in a pout. Glancing to her, he caught her gazing at his lips, a sort of deep longing in her eyes. He suppressed a triumphant chuckle.

She blinked, snapping herself out of it and said sharply, “don’t pout,”

He ignored her, pouting even as he found David’s number, hit the ‘call’ and pressed the phone to his ear reluctantly. A resigned sigh left her before she descended upon his lips in an open mouthed kiss. He loved those kinds of kisses the most; the ones during which he got to feel and taste her tongue. He felt her free hand go to his hair and her fingers combed through his curls to massage his scalp methodically. Her touch was immensely comforting and Kit sank gratefully into it.

She kissed him ardently and was being incredibly attentive. Soaking up the attention as well as the love, Kit groaned, eagerly licking her lip and leaning up to deepen the kiss. He felt her lips curve into a sweet smile against his before her tongue darted forward and teased his wickedly. It was not unlike how her tongue teased the head of his cock. _My filthy Milly._ He groaned.

“What the fuck? Kit? Is that you?”  

His eyes bugged and he pulled away, “erm y-y-yes,” Kit watched as puzzlement, realisation and deep, deep embarrassment flitter across her face. His face grew hot as he marvelled at how expressive she was, “David,” Kit cleared his throat when he realised how hoarse he sounded.

“What’s sup?” he asked, sounding nonchalant. David was never a good actor and it was in moments like this that Kit understood why he was a producer and writer instead.

Kit watched Emilia’s cheeks turn pink, sure his own face was red by now, “um, I-I um want to talk to you,” Kit started. Emilia’s face split into a grin and a giggle escaped her. Kit shot her a chiding look and she clapped her hand over her lips, “and Dan,” he added hurriedly.

“Oookay,” David sounded immensely hesitant, “what about?”

“Um, nothing,” was Kit’s instinctive reply and Emilia’s eyes started disappearing behind her cheeks, her lips still behind her hand, “I mean it’s something but we should talk in person,”

“Now I’m worried,” David said.

“Don’t worry about it. Talk when we meet,” Kit tried to sound cheerful. Emilia snorted a giggle, barely able to muffle it with her hand, “can we meet in the restaurant in the hotel in half an hour?” Kit randomly suggested when his stomach grumbled.

“Sure,” David replied.

“Great,” Kit muttered, his entire being objecting to that simple but sarcastic comment.

An awkward silence filled the line. Just as Kit was about to hang up, David said, “I wouldn’t mind if Emilia wants to come along,” Kit felt his jaw drop, leaving his mouth ajar.

David hung up. But not before Kit heard the beginning of a chortle.

Feeling his face burn, Kit lowered the phone before rolling onto his side to bury his face into the inside of her thigh.

She chuckled, “what’s wrong?” she asked, her hand combing through his curls.

He groaned loudly, “fuck he heard us,” his words were muffled into her skin.

“What?” Emilia exclaimed, “having sex? He’s two floors away. We’re not _that_ loud-”

Kit chuckled while groaning, “no! Kissing. Just now. He picked up to hear us kissing!”

A pause and Kit almost chance a glance to her. But before he did, peals of laughter emerged from her. Kit grumbled, burying his burning face more firmly into her thigh, “y-y-you m-mean he h-h-heard you,” Emilia managed to get out through her oxygen depriving laughter, “moaning,” she giggled.

He rolled his eyes, groaning in shame. She was laughing so hard she was starting to get away from him. With his free hand, he grabbed her arse to keep her thigh in place to hide his face, “fuck,” he whined but that seemed to only multiply her amusement, “is it that funny?” he grumbled. He doubted she even heard him with how loud she was giggling.

An idea came to him and Kit latched his lips to the skin of her thigh and sucked, hard.

A sharp intake of breath put her giggles to a stop. Kit licked the reddening skin he sucked before he moved a few centimetres up her thigh and did the same.

“Oh…” a soft moan left her.

He continued, his other hand coming to her other arse cheek. He kneaded her as he kissed his way to the junction between her legs. He arrived at the destination soon enough. She was wearing a small grey gym shorts but Kit could smell her arousal. He felt himself harden rapidly in his pants, “I can smell how fucking wet you are,” he growled, letting his warm breath fall onto her gym shorts. Her heavy breaths halted momentarily at his words. He reluctantly let go of her arse to bring a finger to pull aside her gym shorts and knickers to reveal her engorged folds to him. He could see the sheen of moisture on them, “you smell so good,” he took a deep breath of her. As her musk filled his nostrils, he felt his rigid flesh fight the fabric of his pants for freedom.

His mouth watered. He grabbed her folded legs from under him and tossed them over his shoulders. He felt her feet fall onto his back, the arch of it caressing him, “ _Kitten_ ,” she breathed. He gazed up at her to see her looking straight at him, her pupils so wide he could barely see her irises, her plump, moist lips parted, her nostrils flaring with each heavy breath she took. Gazing into her eyes, he lowered his mouth to her moist folds. Her brows raised in anticipation as her eyes widened, eagerly taking in the sight of him between her legs.

He buried the flat of his tongue between her folds before dragging his tongue to the peak, scooping up her sweet juices. All the while, he watched her intently. He saw the way her eyes rolled to the back of her head, her mouth fall open as her head lolled back. Frozen in sheer, intoxicating pleasure, she was truly a sight to behold. _Emilia, you are lovely._ Kit was completely mesmerized by her.

He had forgotten to move.

That is until she pulled her head back upright. Her eyes opened, her brows knitted together. With her gaze on him, she pleaded sweetly, “oh don’t stop,” she arched her hips ever so slightly closer to his face.

He blinked before his eyes slipped shut and he dove down, enclose her engorged bundle of nerves in the warm depth of his mouth. His tongue darted out to tease her nub and he pleasured her in earnest. A moan left her. Then another. Her hand tangled in his hair. And another moan.

Soon, Kit found himself chasing her moans. Each time he heard it, his heart swelled as his cock did. And he worked harder to pleasure her. She began to grow wetter, weeping sweet fluid that soaked into his beard. He lapped at her dripping folds, determined not to let any of it escape his mouth to go to waste. Every time the tip of his tongue brush her swollen nub as he drank from her, her legs trembled more intensely by his ears.

“Fuck,” she swore breathlessly, “I love you,” she moaned out.

Grinning, he stuck his rigid tongue into the source of the sweet, heady fluid. Her hot narrow channel was pulsing lightly around his tongue. She sighed loudly, a sound of pure bliss as she grounded her hips onto his face. His nose brushed her nub and with his tongue, he teased her; pushing, flicking, circling. Her hips bucked wildly. Chuckling, Kit gripped her hips to hold her in place before he continued his ministration.

His beard was thoroughly soaked by the time she squirmed strongly under his hands, her moans almost a constant melody in the room. A unbridled wail slipped from her lips and Kit pried his eyes open to witness her arch her body off the bed, grounding her sopping core onto his face. Hungrily, he took whatever she gave.

When her trembling body finally sank back into the soft mattress, her slit visibly pulsing as fluids continued to ooze out, her chest was heaving with each breath she seemed to be struggling to take. Kit caressed her hips, trying to comfort her while he lapped up the never-ending stream of sweetness, “ _Kitten,_ ” she panted. She was gazing at him through half-closed eyelids. She looked drunk. She was biting her lower lip, her mouth curved into a small smile. Lazily, she reached for his hand. When her fingers brushed the back of his hand, Kit released her hips to lace their fingers together.

They stayed like this for a long moment. He rested his head on the inside of her thigh, admiring the wonderful sight of her; unravelled, vulnerable and open by his doing and for his eyes only. When he glimpse moisture seep from her folds, now engorged and in full bloom, he lapped them up with his tongue. All the while, his eyes held hers. _I love you._ Her brows raised just slightly down the middle and Kit was sure, in that moment that she heard him.

“I think this is my favourite place in the world,” Kit croaked, shattering the intimate silence. He was a little regretful but he could not help but tell her. He always wanted her know what he was thinking.

Her brows furrowed in puzzlement, “Seville?” her voice was hoarse and Kit delighted in the fact that he was the cause of it.

“No,” he chuckled, nuzzling her thigh with his bearded cheek, “between your legs,”

She giggled, “fucking wanker,”

“Your wanker,” he countered without missing a beat. To prove his point, the tip of his tongue darted out to tease her swollen clit. She sucked in a breath, threw back her head to moan. Kit grinned and was about to dive back in to bring her to another leg shaking orgasm.

Emilia gasped, “Kitten, fuck. How long has it been? We have to meet David and Dan!” she grasped for one of their phones to look at the time, “what time did you call them?”

“Fuck it,” Kit rolled his eyes, reaching to splay her legs obscenely wide open for him to bury his tongue in her tight channel. He had planned to stick his tongue in deeper this time, already imagining how sweetly she would writhe beneath his mouth.

She resisted, trying to close her legs, “god no. It’ll be so embarrassing to try to explain why we are late or have to cancel,”

Kit agreed inwardly but outwardly, he was starving and he saw sustenance right before his eyes.

She took a look at his phone, “fuck, we have less than 10 minutes to get dressed and be down at the restaurant!” she swore before trying to squirm away. Kit rolled his eyes, dragging her back by her hips to kiss her on her clit. She giggled out a moan, “Kitten, we can’t,” she pulled away, her feet on his shoulder. When he tried to regain his position between her thighs and failed, he pouted.

“I’m hungry,” he whined.

“Me, fucking, too,” she laughed, “that’s why we are going to a restaurant, right now,”

He smirked, “I’m already at a feast,” his eyes fell to the tantalising juncture between her legs. He could have sworn he glimpse a sheen on her folds, the beginning of a gush of sweet juices. The heavy amounts of it that he knew she was capable of almost promising him a full meal.

She laughed, “fuck off,” she snapped before closing her legs entirely.

He whined audibly, “no,” he fixed his best pout on his face.

Emilia hesitated but she rolled her eyes and with evident effort, turned away from him to roll off the bed. Kit watched her go, sighing as he rolled over to lay flat on his back. Emilia glanced to him on the way to the bathroom and instead, she froze. Her eyes was fixed on his crotch, “holy fuck,” Kit followed her gaze down to see the outline of his solid length through his white pants. He was so hard he could see the veins and the prominent shape of the swollen head. At the tip, his pants was visibly moist, “I’m so fucking sorry,” she exhaled.

In a blink, she was beside him on the bed, his pants was tugged off him and flying across the room and his red, swollen head was ramming delightfully against the back of her throat, “fuck!” he grunted, “M-Milly, it’s alright,” he growled through gritted teeth, now worried how they were going to explain the delay to David and Dan, “we can do this a-a-after,”

She let her teeth graze the swollen head as she released him with an audible kiss on the slit making him shudder visibly, “no,” her hand wrapped around his girth and she stroked him skilfully, rotating her wrist as her hand cupped and stroked the sensitive head, “do you really intend to turn up at the dinner with this in your pants?” her eyes were glinting with amusement but with how well and relentlessly she was stroking his dick, she looked sadistic to Kit.

With a smirk, she swallowed his dick swiftly, “oh fuck fuck fuck,” he moaned when she took him into her narrow throat, the tip of her tongue teasing the bottom of his shaft, “oh god, your mouth- _fuck!_ And your tongue-“ said tongue licked the curve of the head before teasing the weeping slit, “ _shit_ ,” starburst exploded across his eyes. As she came up for air, stroking him, the cloud in his mind lifted just enough for the anxiety of being late to creep back in. He grunted, “Milly, I thought you’re hungry,”

Gazing at him, she smirked, “I’m at a feast,” she rolled his heavy sacks between her fingers meaningfully. His mouth dried and it was suddenly hard to breathe. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.

She winked salaciously and Kit felt a twinge in his balls that slithered to the head. Her tongue darted out to clean the weeping slit on his swollen head. She tasted him before licking her upper lip. _You’re so fucking sexy._ He groaned.

Then, without preamble, she feasted on him.

* * *

 

They were late. _So fucking late._

But she looked absolutely gorgeous.

Kit could not keep his eyes off her as they rode the lift down to the ground floor. _Oh her lips… god._

“You have to stop staring at me,” she whispered under her breath, watching the floor number flicker on the display.

“Why?” Kit asked, mesmerized.

“Because that is not what normal human beings do,” she replied, still not looking at him while pursing her lips against a smile.

“Normal human beings aren’t in love with you like I am-“ Kit paused, on second thought, “alright they are all in love with you, but you are looking exceptionally lovely today,” he resisted the urge to press his forehead to her temple and take her small hand in his, “damn…” he chuckled, not able to believe his luck.

“That’s because I sucked you off,” she replied matter-of-factly. She pursed her lips against a smile but a giggle burst from her anyway.

Kit smiled when he witnessed the way her lovely face lit up. He realised he couldn’t argue against that at all. She did. And she did so very well. So well in fact, Kit’s thighs and knees still felt slightly weak and wobbly and his dick, nestled now soft and satiated in his pants, felt nicely sore.

Gazing at her sweet lips, Kit thought he could still feel the warm, wet, soft depths of her mouth around him. When her cheeks hollowed out, the sensation of vacuum pulling him in would be enough to make his eyes roll back and a guttural moan slip from his lips. She turned to meet his eye. In those blue-gold irises, there was a softness, coupled with a deep, tenderness that could only be love.

To his absolute surprise, Kit felt himself begin to grow hard. Aghast and panicking, not wanting to turn up at this dinner with a hard on, he cleared his throat, “so…” he scrambled around for a change of topic to get his mind off it.

“So…” she smiled, “what are we going to tell David and Dan?” she asked.

Kit mirrored her smile helplessly, “I am going to them that I am finally with my best friend and the love of my life,” her brows rose down the middle as her sweet face melted, tears welling up in her eyes, “and I am very happy now,” he took her hand.

She tried to blink her tears away, giggling, “Christ, that is so fucking cheesy,” Kit chuckled, admiring her brilliant grin and she needn’t say it but Kit knew she was as happy as he was.

* * *

 

“About fucking time,” Dan said, stoic as usual.

When they arrived at their seat, an hour after the agreed upon time, David and Dan both gave them a lot of grief by teasing them, as they usually did. But after they ordered their dinner and were left waiting awkwardly, Kit had blurted exactly what he told Emilia in the lift. Emilia had choked on the water she was sipping as David and Dan both stared owlishly at him. Kit knew then that they did not expect their teasing for being late to be so spot-on.

Dan was the one who broke the pregnant silence then. Emilia looked incredibly tensed beside him.

Slowly but surely, a smile spread across David’s lips, “thank fuck for that,”

Emilia blinked, “what?”

“The sexual tension was killing us. We didn’t think we would survive the rest of the filming,” David snorted as he reached for his glass and took a long swig of it, “god, I need alcohol,”

Emilia giggled, “it’s not that bad-“

“You two were constantly eye-fucking each other,” David said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, “across the set like the rest of us are invisible. We kind of did wish we are invisible after a while,”

Dan chuckled, “what are you talking about? They did ‘fuck’ on set,” he pointed out and Kit laughed, feeling his cheeks heat up at the reminder of how desperate and incredibly horny he was for her during the scene in the boat, “other times, we do not need to know,”

Both of them blushed furiously. “Anyway,” Emilia cleared her throat, “so… you two are okay with this?”

_Not that we will give a fuck if they aren’t._

Emilia giggled even as she scolded, “Kitten!” he turned to see a look of sheer disbelief on her face. Kit hadn’t even realised he have said it aloud but after he did, Kit realised he didn’t give a fuck that he did; it’s true.

He raised a brow at her and leaned closer, “will you leave me if they aren’t okay with this?” he asked teasingly. He surprised himself when he was confident that the answer will, without a doubt, be no.

Emilia withdrew from his face shyly. She glanced to David and Dan once before meeting his eye again, “you know I wouldn’t,” she muttered, her cheeks turning pink. His heart tingled with delight. He lost the fight against the urge to press a kiss to her blushing cheek and did just that. She looked surprised when he pulled away and Kit hated that she was. _I want to be able to kiss you; anytime, anywhere, always._

“So?” Kit turned back to David and Dan and asked.

David shrugged, “well, we definitely have to give HBOs a heads-up on this and discuss it further with them. But I don’t see how they would be upset about this,” he turned to Dan, “with the next season coming up in which Dany and Jon would be meeting, this is probably nothing but good publicity for the show,”

Dan seemed more pensive and Kit subtly took Emilia’s hand from her lap, under the table. He had sit so close to her for this very purpose. Her palm was cold and clammy in his and Kit caressed her knuckles with his thumb gently, hoping he could provide some comfort to her, “I agree,” Kit heard a soft, but audible, breath of relief leave Emilia. Kit wanted to turn to her to share a smile but Dan continued, “how are things with Rose?”

They have informed David and Dan, in the strictest confidence, that they were heading to New York after hearing that Rose has been hospitalised, “I have already told her,” Kit sighed, “but she’s not well, in every sense of the word,” he finished lamely, not sure how he should sum up Rose’s condition.

“Is it going to be complicated?” David asked, now looking worried, “I think that will be more of a concern to HBO than the two of you being together,”

“We hope not,” Kit began, realising he used ‘we’ instead of ‘I’ and his heart swelled in his chest that he was no longer alone in anything he would face in the future. Through his confident smile, Kit continued, “Marianna will release a statement of our separation soon,”

“We don’t intend to confirm anything between us though,” Emilia added hurriedly, “not just yet,”

David and Dan both nodded knowingly. They have both been working in this industry longer than either of them, “that’s smart,” David commented but his approval did not make the bitter taste in Kit’s mouth any less bitter, “we’ll speak to HBO about this. Chances are they will back both of you, their golden leads of the next two seasons, if for nothing but to protect the show,”

Kit shrugged, “that’s fair,” _as long as they don’t fire us both._

“And they will probably use your relationship to publicise Season 7,” Dan warned, looking at both of them. David and Dan knew them well enough to know their disdain of putting their private lives out in the open. 

Kit turned to Emilia to see her already looking at him. She looked reluctant but there was a sort of helplessness there too. It was a confusing mix of emotions but Kit felt the same way. He shrugged, surprised when she shrugged too, at the exact same moment. They chuckled, “we can’t stop them,” Kit rolled his eyes, “can we?” he turned to David and Dan.

“Honestly, no,” Dan replied, deadpanned.

“I mean look at the both of you,” David threw his hands up in exasperation, “from the first six seasons, even when Jon and Dany has yet to meet, HBO could not help but put you two together for publicity even if we warned them against it because it potentially spoils the later seasons. But because the fans love seeing the two of you together, it just sells so well, it’s stupid,” David rolled his eyes.

Kit chuckled, inwardly delighted, “then they’ll go crazy when they find out we’re together,” he turned to Emilia. She shook her head even as she smiled, evidently pleased. _Almost as crazy as I got when we got together._

* * *

The next day…

 

**Kit Harington and Rose Leslie Split Up!**

**\- E!News**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**Kit Harington and Rose Leslie Separates Months after First Public Appearance as a Couple at Olivier’s Awards.**

**\- Harper’s Bazaar**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**Kit Harington breaks up with Rose Leslie amidst filming for Game of Thrones Season 7**

**\- People Magazine**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**Why Did Kit Harington and Rose Leslie Break Up?**

**\- Just Jared**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**Kit Harington Announces Break Up with Ex-Game of Thrones Co-star Rose Leslie**

**\- Fox News**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, a difficult chapter to write with all the conflict Kit was feeling about all the things relating to the press. And also the first chapter that we are going to venture into the realm of AU! Do let me know what you think of it; like it or hate it or think it was better in your head, as long as it is constructive, it is appreciated and I would like to hear it :) 
> 
> Small, barely noticeable throwback reference to back to the First Verse, Chapter 18 (in the scene just before the airport). For those wondering what Emilia did for him back then ;)


	17. Cáceres

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s a Leica with a nice old-school vibe, but it takes digital pictures. I used to do a lot of photography and I’ve picked it up again recently.
> 
> \- Kit Harington (Evening Standard, June 2016)
> 
> This was taken in Spain, and I thought Emilia looked like, as the old saying goes, a million bucks. To me, in this photo, she screams fifties, sixties, Old Hollywood chic. And that’s why I took this snap, ’cause she sort of has a timeless quality to her
> 
> \- Kit Harington (Esquire, Apr 2019)
> 
> Somewhere between Emilia and Dany. Somewhere between Spain and Belfast. Somewhere between day dream and work. #somewheretheheadscarfisgangsta #letthegamecommence
> 
> \- Emilia Clarke (instagram, Nov 2016)
> 
> Us professionals call this.... THE RUNNING (WO)MAN. Reality calls this...THE MOMENT BEFORE YOU FALL ON YOUR ASS. #howmanywaystofilladayoff? #thestruggleisreal #shakeittowakeitpeople
> 
> \- Emilia Clarke (Instagram, Dec 2016)
> 
> Kit: Will you be my girlfriend?  
> Emilia: if you can catch me.  
> Kit: How old are you again, Clarke? It's my birthday!  
> Emilia: You're horribly greedy
> 
> \- The First Verse Chapter 9.

_8 th December 2016, Belfast, Northern Ireland_

**Kit**

_Fuck._ He rolled his eyes. He did not understand how he came to be so stupid to take Emilia up on that ridiculous challenge. His balls were aching terribly, dying for a release. It was almost a joke by the third day, as if he didn’t miss her enough, every corner of his body was tensed with longing for her. Kit endured, all through the longing as it turned from sweet to bitter. 

And it was the seventh day. _Today._

_Without Emilia Clarke._

It felt akin to some sort of sick torture, especially with his balls feeling so heavy and big in his jeans.

Despite that, deep down, Kit knew it wasn’t the same as approximately five years ago, when they were separated for long periods of times. Of course, he still missed her so much it was barely comprehensible to him. And he still wished he could call her or read a text from her every minute of the day. Seeing her through the screen of his phone was no less torturous when he could see how beautiful she was but could not touch her.

However, the sadness that used to linger in the background of their long-distance interactions were no longer there. Every minute of their interaction was just as sweet as their goodbyes. Their days spent apart was littered with random texts like ‘I am thinking of you’, ‘fuck, guess what I just did?’, ‘I miss you’, ‘I love you’ or even some of the more racy texts like ‘shite, I got so hard just thinking of you’. But after sending those texts, Kit found he could better proceed with his life. He no longer spent his time clutching his phone while waiting for the next message or worrying if she didn’t reply within an hour.

Inwardly, he just knew she would reply when she replied.

Kit could not say what exactly changed it but he knew it was different and as much as he wished they could always be together, he just knew she would be there when their schedules saw fit that they could see each other again. And whenever that moment was, deep down, Kit would patiently wait for it because nothing could compare to finally seeing her again and being able to hold her hand, hug her and kiss her.

As if in the trance, Kit found himself in the airport of Belfast, his abnormally large bag already packed and his plane ticket to Caceres clutched between his fingers. He has worn his slacks today instead of his jeans simply because Kit didn’t think he could bear to stay in skin tight jeans for more than nine hours with his balls as blue as they felt.

Post-coital, her soft breasts pressed firmly to his ribs, her hips straddling his thigh, her leg stroking his languidly, her palm against his chest, Emilia had proposed a challenge for both of them; to refrain from all sexual activity, including masturbation, until they meet again. She had tightened her arms and legs around him possessively as she whispered that she was feeling selfish and wanted all he had to give her when they meet again. Giddy with love for her and finding himself liking the thought of keeping himself for her and she keeping herself for him, he had agreed, with no thought for how long they were going to be apart.

The regret sank in approximately on the third day when he woke up from a wonderful dream in which she was bent on being an awful tease. He could see her gorgeous, naked body but could not touch her no matter how much he tried. He was so hard upon waking, Kit could not go back to sleep. From that night and all the nights after, he went to the gym, praying he would not meet anyone with his visible erection pressing against the fabric and tenting his running shorts spectacularly. Moaning about it to Emilia did nothing to alleviate his discomfort and if anything, it worsened the ache in his balls when she insisted on being such a tease and dirty-talked to him by detailing _her_ agony and specifically, how wet she is for him.

_God, I regret starting dirty talk._

Since the night he had dirty-talked to her, Kit felt like he had opened a huge can of worms. Emilia seemed to have acquired a new skill and knowledge after new boundaries were broken. With her filthy mind, she was already primed to talk dirty to him and she had a knack for catching him when he least expected it.

Settling in his seat on the flight, Kit opened their chat. He hadn’t informed her he was going over simply because he hadn’t planned to until he wrapped for the day, three hours before the flight that he bought a ticket for when he arrived at the airport. He missed her terribly but it was mainly because his case of painfully aching balls took a turn for the worse. Knowing Emilia hated surprises but unable to resist from surprising her anyhow, he smiled as he texted: **Sleep naked for me tonight, my darling Milly.**

He made sure the text was sent before he turned his phone to airplane mode. He was about to lock his phone when her profile picture caught his attention.

He enlarged it.

He smiled. He had taken this while they were filming together in Spain. While filming, she constantly took the piss out of herself that she was looking ‘attractive’ and ‘sexy’ with the ‘unsightly’ scarf on her head, her face twisting in disgust at herself. But he thought then, as he always thought of her, that she looked like a million bucks. So while in awe of her, he had taken this photo. She had surprised him when she posed for it happily. That is, until, his insistence to have it perfect made her shy and she turned away from the camera lens. Kit remembered feeling extremely pleased with himself for having taken this shot. When he had shared it with her, showing her just how good she looked, Emilia had reluctantly agreed.

He had always loved taking photos of her. He thought her beauty deserves to be captured and frozen forever. When they separated, he lost his reason for photography and his love for photography faded away. Until he received the script for season seven of Game of Thrones to find out they would be filming together a lot more. Suddenly, there seemed to be loads of reasons to purchase a good camera on which he was determined to capture all of his memories made.

_And now, my camera is filled with you._

Despite that, in their time apart, Kit had taken loads of photos for keepsake and to share with her when they video-called. Every time he stumbled upon a photo of her, his chest would swell with love and pride. _My Milly… you are so beautiful._

Trying not to picture her beautifully nude body slipping under the covers as she settled down for the night, Kit shifted to the most comfortable position for the tender heaviness between his legs before he tried to catch some sleep in the plane seat.

* * *

 

_9th December 2016, Caceres, Spain._

Despite suffering from a severe lack of sleep, Kit felt strangely rejuvenated as he stepped out of the taxi and into the hotel. He approached the front desk. He introduced himself as a friend of Emilia’s and was about to start his usual attempt to get her room card, or at least her room number, from the front desk.

“Are you Mr Kit Harington?” the lady at the front desk asked.

Kit blinked, “y-yes,”

“Ms Clarke has left her room card here for you,” she reached under the counter and handed him a room card, “room 0942,”

“Thank you,” Kit said as he took the card. As he proceeded to her room, Kit was dumbfounded. In his mind, Emilia could not have figured out that he was coming. Nonetheless, Kit was relieved he need not spend time to try to convince the front desk that he was not a rabid fan who was much too bold. When he came to her door, his excitement was barely containable as he opened the door to a dark room.

He took a deep breath, his entire body coiling with desire as the scent of lavender filled his nostrils and his lungs. This made him feel better than any amount of cigarettes did, which in her absence, he regretfully took in too much of. As the door closed quietly behind him, Kit stood still as his eyes grew accustomed to the dark. When he could see the dark outlines of the room, Kit shuffled to the bed. He put his bag by the wall as his eyes took in the curvy outline of the covered figure on the bed.

 _Milly._ His heart sang.

He approached the bed. As he came closer, even if he could not see her face which was adorably nuzzled deep into the duvet as she lay on her side, Kit knew it was her from the smell in the room. It smelled like lavender but it also smelled like _her_.

 _Mmm… I’m finally home._ Smiling, he gently knelt on the bed on one knee. When she still did not stir, Kit carefully placed his other knee on the other side of her petite frame under the duvet.

 _Oh Milly._ He could hear her soft, even breaths. _You must be exhausted._ She was usually a light sleeper and for her to still be asleep even when her bed shifted, Kit knew they have worked her to the bone. Muttering a curse under his breath at David and Dan, he placed both hands on either side of her head, on the pillow. Slowly, he lowered himself over her. Nuzzling his nose into her hair, he found her warm scalp against the tip of his cold nose and he took an eager breath of her. 

 _You smell divine…_ He swallowed a moan. He nuzzled himself deeper into her hair, “Milly,” he croaked, willing her to wake. She stirred. He pressed a kiss to her hair, “Milly,” then another kiss.

A soft moan slipped from her lips, the usual little sound she made as she was waking, “Kitten?” her eyes opened a crack.

“Hey,” he whispered, “Milly,” he murmured with his lips in her warm hair. 

A hand flew to rub sleep from her eyes as her body stretched beneath him.

He smiled as he thought he detected the sweet smell of sleep in her warm scent too, “my darling Milly,”

He watched a smile grace her pale lips, lighting up her gorgeous face, “Kitten,” she whispered.

“How did you know I’ll fly over today?” he asked, “you left your room card at reception…”

Her smile widened, now looking annoyingly smug even as she woke reluctantly, “because… I know you and I specifically told them that the card is for one, annoyingly attractive, Kit Harington,” he chuckled, shaking his head, “I actually left it there the moment I checked in,” she hummed as she craned her neck up for a kiss and he eagerly granted her a slow, sweet kiss. He nuzzled closer to her, seeking more of her warmth. A soft moan reverberated from her throat when he lowered his body atop hers.

Annoyingly, he felt the thick duvet between them. With a grunt, Kit reluctantly pulled away and tugged at the duvet. He exposed a bare shoulder and his mouth dried. Taking in the exquisite curve of her shoulder and the defined ridge of her collarbone, Kit was suddenly extremely aware of his hard length fighting to be freed of the confines of his slacks. He ducked his head down and pressed an open mouth kiss against the soft, smooth skin of her shoulder. He tugged the duvet farther down. His lips chased the duvet across her warm, bare skin.

She rolled over onto her back under him, a shuddering breath leaving her and making her body shiver under him. When his lips came to the firm mould of the top of her bare breast, Kit could barely contain his excitement. A grin made his cheeks bunch up and his length twitched eagerly against the zipper of his slacks, begging to be touched. Cheekily, he bared his teeth and bit lightly into the soft flesh. A low, prolonged moan slipped from her lips and Kit was sure he was rock hard already, despite having not seen even a nipple.

With great effort, he pulled himself from her, “Milly…” he whispered in realisation, “you really slept naked,” he marvelled, barely able to contain his delight.

Gazing down at her face, trying to make out the shape of her lovely features in the dark, he saw her smile, “you told me to,” she whispered sleepily.

Grinning, he said, immensely pleased, “is this really for me?” she did not reply but giggled when he hugged her to him.

Reluctantly letting her go, he tugged on the duvet and ducked down eagerly to take the hardened peak of her lovely breast into his mouth. She gasped, her warm body arching up to push her breasts into his mouth. Her hands came up to tangle and tug at his hair. Grinning, he teased her with his tongue and was instantly rewarded with a halting, and alarmingly loud, moan.  

* * *

 

“ _Holy fuck_ ,” she swore.

Kit laughed, panting and struggling to catch his breath. Intense pleasure still wracked his body, making him quiver uncontrollably against her. The muscles in his legs were still convulsing, his toes spread. His thigh muscles were so tight it threatened to cramp at any moment. Blood rushing through his head was thunderous in his ears. His face, neck and chest felt incredibly hot as his body tried to cope with the amounts of pleasure he had just experienced. He was pretty sure he had blacked out for a second when she unexpectedly tightened around him, squeezing his thick length and he shot his copious load explosively into her. His heart was hammering against his chest and Kit would’ve thought he was about to have a heart attack if he wasn’t recovering from the singularly most intense and prolonged orgasm he has had to date.

Feeling her trembling terribly as she curled atop him, Kit wanted to wrap his arms firmly around her but his limbs all felt pretty numb at the moment. With great effort, he gently stroked her back, hoping she could draw comfort from that when she was still so vulnerable.

It has always amused Kit how incapacitated her orgasms left her. In those moments, she was simply a trembling mess of limbs. _The word limbs being used loosely._ She would be usually unable to speak coherently, much less move her limbs as she wanted. If she did manage to move them eventually, they would be unable to support her in any way or be of much use for an extended period of time. As amusing as it was, it made her all the more endearing to Kit. In her vulnerability, it drew out adoration and a strong sense of protectiveness in Kit that he hadn’t felt for anyone else he has been with. The fact that she would, repeatedly, trust him with this side of herself chuffed Kit to bits.

“Milly,” embarrassingly, his throat was dry and hoarse from all the loud, guttural moaning he has been doing. Giggling as she panted, her trembling fingers trailed over his nipple lightly. A jolt of pleasure shot down all the way to his toes. He yelped, his body jerking beneath hers. Her high-pitched laughter made her belly roll against his abdomen and Kit reached to tickle her on her sides. He brushed her lovely curves and she squealed, jerking away.

She heaved herself up from him, still straddling his hips. Her thighs tremored from the effort of simply sitting up. His body twitched in protest at the loss of her and her warmth but his eyes feasted hungrily at the intoxicating sight of her nude body.

Light from the rising sun filtered through the thin curtains, casting shadows on the dips and curves of her body, making her look even more beautiful. Kit swallowed as he eagerly memorised the ridge of her collarbones, the shape of her shoulders, the _wonderful_ curve of her breasts; each of them peaked with hardened nipples. They were pink and moist from his previous ministration. Transfixed, his eyes lingered longer than they should on her lovely breasts, his gaze eventually fell to trail over her delicate waist that widened to the sensual curve of her hips.

He knew she hated her shoulders, arms, her hips and thighs. All of which she thought were too wide to be considered attractive for a girl with a petite stature like her. But as Kit lay beneath her, his sensitive, throbbing length, still encased blissfully in her warm, moist channel, he thought she looked so lovely. Kit was no longer as naïve as he was. He has had his share of all the women out there and he knew there are women who, as much as it was unfathomable to him now, are much more beautiful than Emilia. But Kit thought her perfect for him for three reasons: the first, he was a better person, someone he wants to be, when he is with her; and the second, she was his; and the third, she loved him and he loved her. Gazing at her now, Kit knew he would choose her, over and over, for the rest of his life.

With shaky hands, Kit caressed her thighs, marvelling at the smoothness of her skin under his calloused palm. He did so for a few wonderful moment before he cradled her arse. Kit gave her a caress to soothe any sting she might still feel there from a slap or two he might have given her in the throes of passion. Then he gave her a firm longing squeeze. His hands left for her hips and waist then, marvelling at the delicate, wonderful curve of them. When he came up to her breasts, he allowed his thumb to trace the smooth skin on the underside of them. Sliding up, he cupped them tenderly. He marvelled at how soft and warm she felt in his palm and admired the firm weight of her breast before his thumbs brushed across her erect nipples. Her breath hitched before she sighed. As her nipples began to redden again, probably feeling raw, Kit reluctantly left them to brush over her collarbone before settling along her neck. His thumbs traced her jawline to the curve of her earlobe.

“Kitten…” she whispered, turning to press a kiss to the pad of his thumb to stop its wandering, “what are you doing?”

Kit shook his head, “you look so beautiful, my darling Milly. Every inch of you. You are so beautiful,” he could have sworn he glimpsed tears well up in her eyes but she blinked them away hurriedly, nuzzling her warm cheek into his palm eagerly. She swallowed visibly and that was when Kit made himself a promise that he would praise her so frequently she would no longer blush when someone gave her a compliment.

“I see someone’s been going to the gym…” Emilia commented airily, her fingers trailing down his arms to rest on his muscled arms and shoulders. Kit chuckled as her hands wandered across his toned chest and abdomen, “you’re making me wet, stop flexing,” she teased, winking.

He laughed, feeling himself getting excited at her tease of a statement. He was honestly really chuffed she noticed the extra, unintentional, work he has been putting in, “I’m not. I’m just laughing,” he argued. He studied her as she marvelled at the added definition in his chiselled abdomen, “you like?” he did flex then, feeling the muscles in his chest move.  

Emilia giggled so loudly then he startled a little, “I love them,” she gushed, stroking them teasingly.

Kit rolled his eyes even as he felt the effects of her touch straight in his shaft, “no, seriously. Do you like them?” he has always been pretty proud of them but Emilia always teased him about it. He didn’t remember ever seeing real awe in her eyes over them, the awe and lust he saw in the eyes of other women when they saw his chiselled body. Emilia made a face that she usually made when she was trying to think of something to say that would not hurt that person.

“I…um…” she hesitated. Glancing down at her fingers tracing a particular abdominal muscle, she continued, “I like them well enough,” Kit couldn’t help but feel disappointed and he pouted, showing her plainly how he felt. Her brows shot up down in the middle in sympathy and she leaned forward, cupping his face, “well, I’m just saying they are not something I particularly love about you. Like I love your heart, your eyes and…mmm…” her eyes darted down and lingered, “your lips,” she kissed him chastely. 

Kit sighed when she pulled away, “I guess I shouldn’t be too upset about that… too many men in our industry have abs. I wouldn’t want you too attracted to them,”

She giggled, “that’s right,” she nodded eagerly.

Kit chuckled, “what else do you love about me? You were just getting into it,” he grinned.

“What? I’m done,” she rolled her eyes, as she always did when his ego got too huge for her to handle.

“No you’re not. Kindly continue,” Kit’s grin grew.

She huffed, “no, that’s it, really,”

“What about my dick?” he flexed it, feeling it twitch in her, pushing against her warm, wet walls. It wasn’t nearly as hard as it was; yet.

Her eyes shifted and her breath caught and there was no doubt in Kit’s mind that she felt it. She sighed and Kit shuddered when her walls fluttered around him. She rolled her hips tentatively atop him and sweet friction shot down to his sacs. He groaned, his hands grasping her hips, “I love it,” she grinned, giving him a good, hard squeeze from the tip to the base. He shivered as his own release moistened her channel even more and Kit’s hips unwittingly started moving, “I love how it grows so fucking hard for me, I love how wide it stretches me as it slips inside me, I love how deep it gets,” Kit could feel himself growing bigger and harder as she whispered to him, her voice thick and deeper than usual, “I love how hot it gets. I love feeling you throb inside me,” she moaned softly and Kit let out a shuddering breath as he did exactly that, “I love it most when you cum inside me,”

Kit groaned loudly, his fingers digging into her hips and his balls tightened, “oh god, Milly, I’m going to cum so hard,” he growled, squeezing his eyes shut with the effort to hold it in. Emilia decided to nullify all his effort when without preamble, she rolled her hips; lifting herself till only his head was in her before slamming down to the base of it. He grunted, incoherent strings of curses slipping from his lips as she rode him unrelentingly, “ _Milly,_ ” he croaked. His pleasure shot from his tightened sacks to the tips of his body. His hips bucked up and he buried himself fully as his release burned through him and exploded from the tip. A thunderous cry slipped from his lips and stars exploded into his vision. Spasms erupted across his body.

When he descended from his peak, the first thing he registered was her giggle, then her hands on his face and her lips on his sweaty forehead, “are you alright, Kitten?”

He opened his eyes. He didn’t even know when he closed them. She was smiling down at him, some amused concern in her eyes, “did you come?” he croaked out. She nodded coyly. He frowned, hating himself for not noticing or remembering. He did so love feeling her find her release around him, “when?”

She laughed, “when your cum hit me, rather fucking hard, might I add,” the furrows between his grows did not abate and she chuckled, wiping sweat from his face with her hands, “I came back to myself to find you with your eyes still closed and you are still shaking,”

“I’m fine,” he chuckled, “fuck, that is amazing. I know I say that almost all the time after our love-making but genuinely, this one... motherfucking shite,” he laughed.

“I know,” she giggled, nuzzling her forehead to his temple, “there’s so much cum, Kitten,” she whined weakly.

Kit raised his brows, trying to notice. It was then he felt it; warm moisture on his thighs and his hips. He peered down, nudging her to move. When she did, his jaw drop when he saw that it was a mixture of his cum and her arousal and not just her arousal, as he had thought, “well… fuck,”

“Fuck,” she agreed before she hummed, grinding herself onto him and keeping him securely in her.

“Eight fucking days of hell,” he groaned at the mere recollection, “you can imagine why I would spend so much time in the gym,” he rolled his eyes, “it was the only thing that could get it down and assuming I worked so hard I feel almost faint. Even a cold shower doesn’t work after the third day. And my nuts got so heavy they hurt so fucking bad. I thought I spoiled them for a moment,”

Emilia giggled, “evidently not,” she flexed her muscles, massaging his length in that loving way only she could.

He grunted in agreement, chuckling, “I would get hard in the weirdest of times and it happened so quick too…”

“What were thinking of-“

“You,” he hissed, “always you, you, you,” he pressed a fierce kiss to her cheek, “even thinking of your voice got me hard. For fuck’s sake,” he closed his eyes when he recalled, “I got hard once, filming a fight scene… thank god for the heavy armour,” Emilia laughed, her amusement shaking her body endearingly and Kit hugged her to him, “let’s never do this again,” he moaned, fighting a smile to show her how serious he was being.

She laughed, “why not? I love that you kept all your cum for me,”

Kit closed his eyes, silently contemplating his death from prolonged abstinence, “you’re filthy…” he complained.

“You love it,” she whispered against his lip. _I really do…_ Kit smiled, kissing her eagerly.

* * *

 

It was already mid-afternoon of both their off days when they made their way from the bathroom on wobbly legs. Kit has lost count of how many times he nutted since he came to Caceres but his balls felt so much better, even if his legs have seen better, stronger days. He had sat on the floor of the shower stall with Emilia in his lap for a good half an hour after the latest orgasm. Emilia had teased him about not being able to walk after his orgasm, a pay-back for teasing her all these years.

“Where are we going?” Kit finally thought to ask when he managed to tear his gaze from her naked body.

“Lunch,” Emilia groaned, “I’m fucking starving,” she switched on the hair dryer, “then…” the rest of her words were drowned out by the hair dryer.

“What?” Kit turned to her, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

She switched off the hair dryer, shaking her head, “nothing,” there was a small smile on her lips as her tender gaze lingered a moment longer on him.

“What?” Kit mocked a scowl at her, “tell me,”

“I’ve been wanting to go and visit some places in Caceres, if you don’t mind tagging along,” she shrugged as she told him.

Kit narrowed his eyes, suspicious when she tried to hide it from him before but ended up telling him so nonchalantly in the end. He asked, “where are we going?”

“You’ll see when we get there,” she smiled.

Abandoning his search for appropriate clothing, Kit approached her, still stark bollocks. She regarded him cautiously. Kit wiggled his hips then and Emilia glanced down once before bursting into uncontrollable giggles. He wrapped his arms around her and was pleasantly surprised when she met his hug with one of her own. With her arms around his neck and his around her waist, they hugged each other firmly. His eyes slipped shut as he completely revelled in the feel of her bare body against his. He could never seem to get enough of having skin-to-skin contact with her. A happy sigh left her lips.

“I missed you so much Kitten,” she choked out, her voice thick.

“Oh Milly, I missed you too,” he whispered, rubbing his cheek with hers before he pressed a firm kiss to her cheek, “I missed you so fucking much, and I swear it’s not only about the love-making,”

She giggled, “I’ll have time off from 18th onwards,” she said, still not letting go of him and it suited Kit fine. He could spend the day in her arms and her in his if he could.

“19th would be my last day before the holidays,” he replied, burying his nose into her neck to take in a lungful of her.

“Mmmm,” she hummed, “come and meet my mum, Kitten,” He froze. He has never been invited to the Clarke’s household. Although he has already met all of the Clarke family, he has never been to their family home. Her arms loosened around him and she pulled away from his arms, to his dismay. But before he could object, she took his face in her hands, “do you want to?” he met her eyes to see worry in them, “it’s alright if you’re not ready,”

Realising his pause has been misunderstood as hesitation, Kit hurriedly said, “oh Milly, I would love to meet your darling mum,”

She beamed, “great,” she giggled, evidently excited.

“When?” Kit asked, feeling strangely nervous even if it wasn’t his first time meeting Jennifer Clarke.

“Um…” Emilia pondered, “we’ll be dropping by your parents’ as well this holiday… think we would have to sort out the dates properly. Especially with spending Christmas and New Years at whose place,” she chewed her lower lip. It was then Kit realised they would be considering this for many more years to come and he felt incredibly excited at the thought, “well, your birthday is super close to Christmas… I think your parents would want you home for that…” she thought aloud, “maybe we could do Christmas at your parents and New Years at my mum’s,” she suggested, practically bouncing in her excitement.

Kit did not say anything but only smiled as he admired her, already going ahead to plan their holiday. _She did not even consider that we would spend our holiday apart. God I love her._

“A-are you alright with that?” Emilia grew hesitant and she blushed as she finally thought to ask, “I mean you can just say it if you don’t want to…”  

Loathing the way her excitement dimmed, Kit chuckled, “I think you’ve thought it out excellently,”

Her smug grin found Kit regretting his words instantly, “well of course,” she mocked an affronted look, “Christmas is serious business,”

Kit snorted, “oh yeah? Where are my presents?”

“Who said you’ll be getting presents?” her gaze was soft as they were bright, “and who told you you will be getting more than one?” she scoffed, “greedy boys won’t be rewarded,” Kit shrugged but the confident smirk did not abate even as he thought, gazing down at her: _I only need one present. Give yourself to me for Christmas, Clarke. Be my wife. Marry me, why don’t you._

* * *

 

**Emilia**

_I am going to ask him._ She swallowed as subtly as they can as they walked shoulder to shoulder in Golfines Palace. _I will…_ She turned to him and hurriedly looked away when his eyes begin to turn towards her. _Eventually._ Her shoulders sagged in disappointment at herself. _30 and still a fucking coward._

“You okay?” Kit asked her, stepping closer to her and bumping her with his shoulder. She wished it was his forehead.

“I’m good,” she turned to him. Kit looked radiant, his cheeks flushed from all the walking and climbing up stairs. His dark brown eyes were bright and smiling as he gazed at her. His lips was turned up at the corners, peeking from under his moustache. As a whole, he was looking very very handsome. At the sight of him, she beamed up at him, genuine happiness overshadowing the nerves she was feeling,

“Are you enjoying yourself?” he asked teasingly though she could tell he asked because he was obviously not convinced with her previous reply. As she told him, she wanted to visit some places in Caceres that she hadn’t had a chance to explore, owing to her busy filming schedule since she came here. This town was rich in its culture and museums and Emilia was extremely excited to finally have the time to explore Caceres.

But what she wasn’t telling him was that she was completely enamoured of him. In his absence, she missed him so much that in some moments she thought she could feel the physical empty space beside her where he used to constantly occupy. Constant longing sounded romantic but Emilia no longer feel the need to wallow it in or let herself be tormented by it. It was the conscious effort made in the little things that allowed her to pull herself from the constant longing to really live in the day.

As much as she would like to spend some time after work to simply think of him and miss him, Emilia went for a night-out whenever the opportunity presented itself, sharing with him photos and brief messages about anything amusing that happened. And as much as she would love to chat with him through the night, she no longer felt the qualms of letting him know she was tired and needed to turn in for an early day tomorrow. In these little things, not having him there with her all the time became bearable. And Kit has been a dear about it; if a little clingy and whiny on some days. Ridiculous as it may sound, Emilia adored him more when he started whining about how much he missed her, detailing moments in his long day which reminded him of her. His bravery in his complete honesty with her, even in things that might result in her incessant teasing, was sobering and Emilia found herself striving to match him.

Since he had arrived in Spain, Emilia’s heart felt like it had swelled to twice the size and she was filled with so much love and adoration for him she thought she would burst if she didn’t kiss him. And as cheesy, and maybe unnecessary, as it would seem, Emilia wanted to ask him properly if he would be hers; like how he had asked her to be his girlfriend years back. It only seemed right to her that she should ask him this time.

So Emilia found herself wracking her brains to come up with something; a presentable place and time. They have had lunch at a nice restaurant which an extra on set who is a local recommended to her. After that, Kit had suggested they joined a guided tour of the palace. His simple, seemingly careless, suggestion had warmed her to the core for he _knew_ she loved museums and all things arts, history and culture related. He left her in awe of his very existence as he teased her that they didn’t have rooms available to be booked before he went up to the counter and all but brought two tickets to the tour.

This was where Emilia spent the entirety of the tour till this moment wondering when and how she should ask him. She was ashamed to admit that she hasn’t been paying even the least bit attention to the hardworking tour guide.

“No,” Emilia replied him, “I’m having a terrible time,” she teased, exaggerating her response with a deep frown, “absolutely horrible. Revolting,” she spat.  

Kit rolled his eyes even as he snorted a laugh. He slung his arm around her, pulling him to his side, “very funny,” he scoffed even as his lips curved into a beautiful smile. With his arms around her, his fingers gently tickled her neck. Giggling, she shied away from his hand to bump into his side but he held onto her firmly.

“Kitten,” she whined, hoping he would stop. But as usual, she was overly optimistic. Trying to suppress her giggle, she turned to bury her face into his chest, trying to hide and get away from his gentle, teasing touch, “Kit please-“ she whimpered, fighting a giggle that she knew would only encourage him.

His tickles ceased abruptly. As she caught her breath, trying to straighten from him, she felt his lips kiss her on her hairline; briefly but firmly. She blinked, her heart fluttering in delight even as she tensed, stunned that he would dare to do so in public. Glancing around, she was thankful to see that their tour group has proceeded on without them. She quickly straightened from him but he wouldn’t let her, his arm still firmly locked around her neck. It wasn’t in the least uncomfortable and in fact, it was very much the opposite; with her shoulder fitting under his arm, his arm holding her snugly, her head resting on his shoulder. But the fear of having their photo taken or their very compromising position reported to the tabloids prevented her from staying in his arms.

“Kit,” she muttered.

Probably sensing her solemnness, his arm loosened around her and Emilia reluctantly peeled herself from his side, “sorry,” he muttered, “got carried away,” she peered up at him to see him refusing to meet her eye and looking deeply upset with himself. _Oh Kitten._ She wanted to return his kiss more than he would ever know. She wanted to push him up against the wall and kiss him till he was breathless and grinning beamingly at her at the same time. _But we can’t. Not here._

“No,” she let her fingers brush his hand to find them balled into fists in his sides, “I don’t want you to be sorry,” she whispered, soft enough so only they would hear the other, “I loved it,”  his chocolate brown eyes flickered up to hers, “ _I love you_ ,” she practically only mouthed it. A small smile curved into his lovely lips, slowly but surely widening. Gazing over him, she caught sight of his raven curls, glistening in the Spanish sun beautifully. She wanted to bury her fingers into his curls to stroke and massage his scalp just the way she knew he loved.

 _I love you._ Emilia didn’t know one’s eyes could speak the way his could, to her. _I love you so much._ His eyes said. His fingers gripped hers and gave hers a tender squeeze before letting her go so very reluctantly. Emilia tore her gaze from him to see their tour group turning a corner to walk out of sight. Panicked, she grabbed his hand and towed him forward. He chuckled behind her but put up little resistance.

The tour was all in all really good, in Emilia’s opinion and she enjoyed it thoroughly but she doubted she would enjoy anything more than the company of the man beside her. Once they thanked their tour guide and made their way out of the palace, they were quickly stopped by fans.

“Jon Snow, I love you,” a young brunette squealed, her pale cheeks turning pink as she stared at Kit with the biggest heart eyes Emilia has ever seen on someone. Pride bloomed in her chest and she chuckled. _I know._ She thought empathetically.

“It’s Kit but thanks,” Kit grinned, “I’m glad you love Jon,” Emilia gazed to him, pleased that he was not in the least bit grumpy at being recognised and was in fact, being very very gracious. She knew what a sweet, lovely and kind person Kit was. But she also knew how annoying it is to have the day disrupted by well-meaning fans who were likely caught in their tracks when they unexpectedly bumped into them. And Emilia hated when they caught Kit on a bad day and from then on, declare him to be a rude, snobbish individual; the furthest thing from who Kit really was. More than once, Emilia had to call her mum to tell her mum to stop her from speaking up for Kit when she overheard someone speaking badly of Kit or seeing it on social media.

Kit smiled kindly as the young lady stammered, “um can I- um can I get a photo with you-“

“Sure!” Kit’s smile seemed a permanent fixture and Emilia felt so very proud of him. She turned to the young lady, ready to be handed the camera to take their picture when the young lady and her friend beside her unexpectedly screamed.

Emilia startled, as did Kit, who almost dropped the bottle he held. Emilia turned to see both of them staring at her, wide-eyed and their jaw hanging open, “I love you!” they gushed, “so very very much! You are so amazing as Dany,”

Caught off guard, Emilia could only blush and smile. The enthusiasm of the Spanish fans could take some getting used to; so forward and open, unlike their more subdued, subtle UK fans. Kit chuckled beside her, “she really is,” she heard him say in agreeance and her blush deepened.

“Thank you,” she smiled.

“C-can I get a photo with the both of you?” they asked, holding out their phone.

They exchanged a look, their smiles faltering and Emilia knew the same thing was going through their minds. They were not supposed to do anything that might clue the public and press in on their relationship. A photo of them out together on a day-off would seem too conspicuous for Liz and Marianna’s liking. The fact that they were already spotted together by overly excited fans was bad enough, especially with the high likelihood of this fan circulating the photo on social media. In Kit’s gaze, Emilia could see the conflict he felt in that moment.

It was Emilia who said in the end, “sorry, we aren’t supposed to take photos with fans…” she said weakly. It was true actually. David and Dan have strongly encouraged them not to, what with the spoilers for the next season already flooding the internet and resourceful fans tracking the filming location of the actors and making pretty accurate deduction about the next season. _God, they are incredibly smart._ However, as it wasn’t stated in the contract, few actors actually remember or abide by it.

“Oh…” the faces of the two young lady simultaneously fell.

“We’re so sorry,” Emilia frowned, feeling helpless and slightly regretful of turning them down, “we could sign something if you want?” she offered weakly, “I would love to write you a personalised note, if you’d like,”

A smile lit up their faces, “that would be great!” they turned and dug into their bags. Emilia dug into her own and finding the notebook she carried, she pulled it out.

“Here we go,” Emilia rummaged into her bag for her pen but could not find one, to her dismay.

“Here,” Kit shoved his pen under her nose. She glanced to him to see his soft, tender gaze fixed on her.

Taking his pen, and recognising it to be his lucky pen he has been carrying around for the longest time, Emilia flipped to an empty page and began to write, “sorry can I get your name?” she got both their names and wrote them messages with loads of hugs and kisses at the end, taking special care not to mention the presence of both Kit and herself. When she was done, she tore out the pages and handed it to them. Thankfully, they were both looking thrilled.

“Thank you! You look so beautiful,” one of them grinned.

Laughing and feeling incredibly shy at the generous compliment, Emilia smiled, “you are very kind,”

The brunette squealed before opening her arms. She quickly caught herself and held back, blushing, “can I hug you? It’s alright if you don’t-“

“Sure!” Emilia enthused, her arms already open. She grinned and Emilia gave her a firm hug with cheek kisses. When Emilia has hugged them both, they turned to Kit, hopeful looks in their eyes. Kit glanced to meet her eye over them, a questioning look in his eyes and Emilia giggled. _Is he really asking me?_ Her middle warmed up nicely at his sweet sentiment, even if entirely unnecessary in her mind. She trusted him more than this. He smiled before graciously accepting their hug. When the ladies pulled away, their cheeks were both very red, to Emilia’s immense amusement.

“You smell so good,” one of them looked in complete awe of Kit. _And why wouldn’t she? He is spectacular really,_ “I-I mean you both!” she hurriedly added.

Emilia giggled, “he does smell very very good,” she agreed, nodding furiously. _And he tastes even better._

The young ladies giggled with her while Kit chuckled awkwardly, musing the curls on the back of his head with his hand as he tucked the other hand into his pocket, “god we love both of you so much! Are you two filming together?”

Emilia shook her head quickly, “no no no, we’re definitely not!” she denied with mock but fierce vehemence. The girls caught on quick and laughed, “no spoilers though,”

“We would love it if you do,” the other lady sighed, looking to be swooning for Kit already, “you two look so good together,” she looked between them.

“Thank you,” Kit surprised her when he replied, beaming.

“Alright, we won’t get in your way any longer. Thank you so much!” they hurriedly shuffled away, waving with their notes in their hands.

Emilia waved to them, grinning. When they turned away to continue on their way, she turned to Kit at the same time he did to her, “that’s some quick thinking, Clarke,” Kit admitted gruffly.

“That’s some quick thinking, Clarke,” she mimed mockingly, mimicking his deep voice and his shoulder shrug.

He scowled, “that’s some terrible acting on your part,”

“Tell me something new, it’s all terrible,” Emilia countered. If possible, his scowl deepened in sheer objection. Not wanting him to compliment her or insult her anymore, she jumped in quickly, “and that was fucking close,” she sighed.

Kit nodded, “yeah…too close,”

Recalling how he had glanced to her for permission, Emilia looked up at him and said, “and did you just ask for permission before giving the fans hugs?” she was thoroughly amused.

Kit flushed, “thought you might not like it so much now that I’m…” _mine._ “y’know,” he shrugged.

“I really don’t,” she pursed her lips against a smile.

He took one look at her and scoffed, “fuck off,” she raised a brow, doing a poor but persistent job at feigning innocence, “a promised man,” he finished lamely.

She giggled before she feigned a gag, “Mr Harington you have to work on your lines!”

Kit laughed, “take that up with the writers,” he raised his hands in mock surrender. Giggling, she slapped her palm to his.

“You don’t have to ask permission,” she told him, “as long as they don’t get to drink your cum-“ Kit choked on nothing, “I’m all good,” she shrugged. Glancing sideways at him, his face was tomato-red and he was coughing. She giggled.  

When he recovered, Kit half-lamented but she could see the smile at the edge of his lips, “fuck, you are so damn filthy,” he whined, “but it’s such a huge turn-on,” his voice fell to nothing more than a whisper.

“Is it?” she glanced to his groin, longing for the sight of him through his skin-tight jeans. When her eyes darted up to his, he was staring at her, his gaze smouldering. Slowing in her footsteps, she stepped closer to him to whisper, “this,” she let her fingers graze his bulge, which wasn’t so prominent before and his breath stilled completely, “is all mine,”

He whimpered, “it is,” she felt his hand creep behind her to brush the underside curve of her bottom in that longing way that Kit seemed to have mastered, “I want to kiss you so bad,” he whined. Her gaze fell to his pursed heart-shaped lips and she felt her tongue dart out unwittingly to moisten her own lips. She thought she could still taste him. _No, Emilia._ She blinked.

Glancing around, glad to see that no one was even sparing them a glance, Emilia quickly stepped away, “let’s go, to the next destination,” she enthused, suppressing a giggle at Kit’s barely contained groan. She glanced furtively to him as he fell into step with her. _This man is so unbelievably gorgeous and so very desirable; his luscious curls, his deep-set eyes, his pouty lips, his thick black beard barely concealing his defined jaw, his muscled shoulders and arms, his broad chest, his large veiny hands, his slim hips, his long, thick, hard dick-_

 _Pull yourself the fuck together, Emilia Clarke._ She tore her gaze away from him to stare at the cobble stone as she walked. _You’re thirty, not eighteen-_

_His heavy balls, encased in his velvet sacks; how they felt against her clit as he thrust into her from behind. His thick, hot cum flooding her throbbing channel-_

A gush of wetness pooled between her legs to moisten her knickers. Eager to get her mind off it, Emilia turned to him and declared, “I want to get some ice cream. Do you want to-”

She was taken aback to find his gaze already on her. His gaze was intense, much too intense for him to have casually looked her way. The brown in his eyes were completely gone, replaced by black and Emilia recognised what was on his mind by the mere look in his eyes. He took a step closer to her and hissed, “I want to fuck you up against the wall in the loo of the fucking ice cream shop,” goosebumps erupted over her skin and a shiver ran down her spine. His voice and harsh, guttural tone had her knees weak for him.

“Kit,” she whimpered, knowing she would be helpless if he were to grab her and all but drag her into a shop and do exactly as he said he wanted to. _Please do._ She almost sighed in pure contentment at the thought. Instead, summoning all her higher brain functions, she said, deadpanned, “the ice cream would be ruined by the time you’re done,”

He paused, seemingly taken aback. Unable to suppress a smile, she chuckled.

He burst out laughing, “you are unbelievable, Clarke,”

Missing hearing him call her Milly, Emilia giggled, “come on,” she looped her arms through his, unable to stop herself from at least touching him platonically; or at least she tried to tell herself as she let her fingers brush his forearm, “for saying such completely inappropriate things in public,” Kit snorted and she ignored him, uncaring if she was being hypocritical, “you’re buying,”

* * *

 

They laughed at the queer look the shop owner gave them when they requested a triple scoop on the cone with extra toppings. They supposed buying ice cream in itself was pretty weird in such relatively cold weather in Spain. But both of them could not care less what the shop owner thought. Emilia only cared about getting the first bite on the magnificent triple scoop Kit grudgingly paid for.

“Wait!” Kit protested when she made to take a bite of the ice cream.

“What?” she demanded, annoyed.

To her growing annoyance, Kit drew out his phone and tried to take a photo. Leaning back in his seat which was positioned much too close to hers, he said, “smile,” she glared at him. He took the photo. Looking down at the photo, Kit shrugged, “could be better but you look so fucking hot anyway,”

Despite herself, she giggled. _Silly Kitten._ She turned her attention back to the ice cream. _My silly Kitten._ Her heart swelled. She made to lick the ice cream.

Then it was gone.

Kit grinned, the ice cream in his hand, “hey!” she snapped, “give it here. You said you didn’t want it!” she protested, anxious he would ruin it by taking the first bite. Taking the first bite on a perfectly shaped ice cream stack was one of the greatest pleasures in life and Emilia was _not_ going to let it slip by her today.  

“Well, watching you buy one had me working up an appetite,” Kit shrugged, “and you have all my favourite flavours on this,” Kit glanced to it and licked his lips, visibly tempted by the ice cream.

Emilia pouted. She had intentionally chosen his favourite flavours, knowing that even if he said he did not want ice cream, he would take a bite later anyway. But she didn’t think he would rob her of her first bite, “I want the first bite,” she practically whimpered out.

Kit narrowed his eyes at her, glancing to the ice cream, then to her. Shrugging, he offered it out, “take it then,”

Her eyes lit up and Kit chuckled. Grinning, she leaned closer and licked the ice cream. The coolness on her tongue and the amazing flavours were incredibly. One lick became two and then three. Kit did not stop her and she indulged herself. She loved all the flavours and was beginning to dig into it in earnest.

Then she felt his tongue, licking her vertically across the corner of her lips. She startled, drawing back. She blinked at him, appalled by how bold he was. He only grinned at her, licking his lips as if he has had a taste of the ice cream. She could still feel the moistness he left on the side of her mouth. Ignoring the way her heart stuttered and the moistness between her legs returning with a vengeance, she mocked a look of disgust, “you missed, you git!” she teasingly raised her sleeve to wipe at the corner of her lips.

Kit grinned, shrugging, “tastes good anyway,” he looked so pleased with himself then she could no longer pretend to be disgusted by his very talented tongue. She giggled, her brows furrowed as she blushed. His ability to make her blush still amazed her to this day.

“Took you long enough to try to sneak a taste,” she argued.

His grin widened, “I got distracted watching you lick that so eagerly,” her cheeks burned as she contemplated how she looked.

“You perv!” she mocked a scoff, “bet you enjoyed the show,”

“I did,” he chuckled and Emilia glanced over the edge of the table, hoping but failing to catch a glimpse of his groin.

“Your turn,” she rolled her eyes, pushing the ice cream to him.

He grinned, “so pushy, Clarke,” he teased.

“Christ, and you said I have a filthy mind,”

Kit laughed, “it’s true. You really do, about every fucking thing,” he leaned closer, “I only have it for you,”

Gamed, she smirked, “go on then, show me just how good you are,” she teased, “eat it, with love,” she almost blushed at her own bawdy words.  

He matched her smirk with his own, looking ready to rise to her challenge. To her immense surprise and some horror, Kit dove down onto the ice cream with a sort of eagerness that he shouldn’t have while eating a mere ice cream. His tongue slipped out from between his plump moist lips. She watched with a lump in her throat as using only the tip of his tongue, he licked the ice cream from base to the tip. Grinning, he teased the tip like how she imagined he did with her clit, just this morning. She swallowed a soft sigh as she watched his tongue apply just the slightest pressure to bury the tip into the creamy moistness. Unwittingly, she crossed her legs tightly, squirming a little in her seat as she watched him catch a cream coloured bead of melting ice cream on his tongue, licking it to the tip.

Her entrance was throbbing, longing to be stretched and her achingly empty channel pulsed in anticipation. She felt incredibly slick, leaking copiously in her knickers. Tightening her legs, she searched for that sweet friction on her probably swollen clit.

Kit’s eyes darted down before he slurped noisily at the tip of the ice cream. Then he pulled away.

His dark eyes held her gaze. She glanced to his lips to see traces of ice cream on the corner of his mouth, caught on his beard. As much as she want to lick it off him, Emilia was very aware of their extremely open location. They could easily be seen. Risking it, Emilia quickly reached for him. Swiping the ice cream off the corner of his lips, she intended to lower her hand and wipe it on the napkins provided. Before she could, Kit snatched her finger in his hand and put her finger in his mouth, sucking her intensely, his tongue massaging the base of her finger.

Her eyes threatened to roll to the back of her head at the sight and feeling of that singularly, immensely erotic act.

His mouth was incredibly warm and wet. Much too soon, he released her with a pop. Still in shock, she stared at him as her hand lowered. Her knickers now stuck to her, cold and uncomfortable but Emilia was fixated on the finger he just sucked clean. Unable to consider anything beyond what her body wanted, she brought the same finger to her mouth and tasted him. She tasted mostly the sweetness of the ice cream but there was a hint of the taste of him and it was enough to elicit a contented hum from her.

He moaned, softly but deeply and her eyes flew open to see him staring at her, wide-eyed and his lips parted so he could breathe. His breaths were short and shallow. His gaze fell to her mouth and his lower lip trembled but he quickly pursed them together. He swallowed heavily before he met her eyes.

She blurted, “did you come?”

Kit laughed, albeit a little nervously, “I suppose I have to now. No fucking way am I standing to go anywhere now with this in my fucking pants,”

* * *

 

Kit was grumpy.

And her amusement made him even more so.

They could not figure out where to sneak off to in the middle of the town and Kit was not in any condition to walk around in broad daylight without attracting stares. So Kit had to settle to wait for the commotion in his jeans to settle down before they made a move. It was an agonising hour with Kit constantly pouting and whining. Emilia even had the time to buy another cone of ice cream to torment him with.

Emilia honestly could not blame him for his grumpiness, having glimpsed the impressive hard-on he was trying to soften.

“Are we going back to the hotel yet?” Kit asked curtly, his tone cold.

Glancing to him to see him unsmiling and staring ahead with a dull look in his eyes, Emilia stifled a giggle with her hand, “no,”

Kit glared at her, annoyed, “why?” he snapped.

 _Oooh he’s getting real mad now._ Unfazed, Emilia shrugged, “I’m not done yet. There’s… one more stop,” she lied, making it up. Truthfully, she was disappointed she hadn’t yet figured out how she was going to ask him… but she knew she wanted it to be today; she simply did not want to wait any longer.

“No,” Kit replied bluntly, “we are going back this instant,” he insisted, not sounding very much different from a child.

She chuckled, shaking her head, “no,” she replied, her tone softer but no less firm.

Abruptly, he grabbed her hand to pull her to a stop. He leaned closer and hissed angrily, “I _want_ you, right now,”

A shiver ran down her spine. She had never seen Kit so frustrated. The last time he was even close to this state was probably when he was jealous and that was a night to remember. She could only imagine the things he would do her the longer she denied him. Her skin tingled with anticipation and some trepidation, “Kitten,” she met his eyes, “one more stop,” his eyes glanced between hers, his hardened gaze now hesitant, “please,” she added and threw in her wide, sad eyes and pouted her lips a little for good measure.

His eyes glanced down to her lips and his eyelids blinked slowly. When his eyes found hers once more, his gaze was soft and Emilia knew she had succeeded in thawing him, “fine,” but she didn’t think he would be any less grumpy even while he relented. He let her go and Emilia happily continued walking. He followed her, no longer objecting and kicking up a fuss.

 _God… where should I bring you? I should have fucking planned this…_ she sighed, at wit’s end. Glancing to her side, Kit was falling slightly behind while he sulked.

Then she saw it.

Her eyes widened and she grinned, “Kitten! Let’s go,” she snatched his hand in hers before dragging him to their destination.

“Where the fuck are we-“ he grumbled but as they entered the building, Kit’s voice trailed off. She grinned up at him to see his surprise turn to dismay, “fuck no,” he moaned.

“Fuck yeah!” she giggled before dragging him, moaning and whining, to the counter. Despite his reluctance, she could see the edges of his lips turn up in a smile, “two _adult-_ “ she shot him a look and he buried his face into his hand, “tickets please. And skates too,” Kit’s groan was muffled behind his hand as Emilia paid for it. She towed him through the entrance and to the skates counter, “UK size 4 please,” she told the staff manning the counter. Turning to him, she looked at him expectantly.

“Must we?” he asked witheringly.

“Yes,” she squealed, barely able to contain her excitement. She hasn’t skated in a long time.

He sighed in defeat before removing his shoes to exchange them for the skates.

She was giggling to herself due to sheer excitement as they sat down on the bench to lace up their skates. Beside her, for all the resistance he had put up, Kit expertly laced up his skates. His curls had fallen into his face as he pursed his lips in concentration. His eyes, lined with thick lashes, were trained on his skates and Emilia found herself admiring how dark and beautiful his eyes looked and the smooth slope of his nose. His palms were wide, his veins visible on the back of his hand, his fingers thick but his hands always amazed her with how deft they could be.

_Do you remember when we last skated together? You looked as beautiful as you look today and I was as hopelessly in love with you then as I am now. Back then, I just didn’t realise how much I love you and how irrevocably I have fallen for you. I was just a silly girl who wanted to spend all my time with this sweet, handsome boy. And when I got to, when we skated together, it felt like there was just the two of us in this world. And I was the happiest I have ever been. Did you know that?_

When her gaze flittered up to his eyes, they were staring at her, amused, “what?” he asked, almost looking afraid.

Blinking, she shook her head dismissively, a small smile on her face as she kept her secret. She turned back to lace her skates. But before she could, Kit sighed dramatically beside her. He brushed aside her fingers and she watched as he sank to his knees in front of her. His fingers began lacing her skates as quickly and smoothly as they did for this own.

_I was so surprised when you asked me to be your girlfriend. Would you be as surprised when I ask you to be my boyfriend?_

“Done,” he smiled, looking too proud of himself for probably doing it in record time. He glanced over her before he frowned, “you’ll catch a cold,” she looked down at herself to see, despite her jacket, her black top dipped low over her chest. She hadn’t thought to wear a scarf as it was not that cold in Caceres. She didn’t even know there was an ice skating rink in Caceres, much less be able to plan her attire for it. When she looked up, she saw him reaching around his own neck to remove his scarf, “here, put it on,” he slung it over her neck. _Oh Kitten…_ she stared at him and his own now exposed neck, “oh at least look alive, Clarke,” he huffed when she did nothing to secure her own scarf because she could not stop staring at his beautiful face.

 _How have I found someone who is so good and kind and who loves me, so much?_  

Feigning an annoyed expression, he wrapped his scarf around her neck gently. It was too long for her and so, Kit wrapped her up in it twice, ensuring it was snug and would not loosen as she skated. Once or twice, she could have sworn his fingers brushed her neck and jaw tenderly, lingering on her skin a moment longer than necessary.

All the while, he grumbled.

 _I love you my grumpy Kitten._ She thought as she gazed at his adorable face of concentration as he adjusted the scarf so it protected as much of her chest and neck from the cold as possible. When he seemed done, he glanced down to her hands before he looked towards the counter, “wait here,” he told her.

Before she could ask him what he was up to, he hobbled over to the counter, unsteady on his skates. She watched the staff hand him something and Kit pay for it. Kit returned to her. He knelt before her. He placed what he bought on his own lap to take her hand in his. _Gloves._ He pulled black gloves onto both her hand, adjusting them. With her heart in her throat, she wanted to kiss him, so badly.  

“You wanted to skate so don’t you dare to snuggle your freezing feet and hands on me tonight,” Kit warned as he stood. She giggled, recalling the time she did just that; warming her hands on his balls, which were immensely warm. Rolling his eyes, he offered her a hand to stand from the bench. She eagerly took it, revelling in the feel of the familiar callouses. Her heart swelled when his large hand wrapped around hers. His grip was firm but Emilia could always feel the tenderness. He pulled her to her feet easily, not letting her go even then but pulled her into him with a sharp tug.

She giggled as she stumbled forward and straight into his waiting arms. She went only too eagerly, knowing she wouldn’t fall. And she didn’t. He caught her against his chest, his arms around her waist. Her hands between their chests, she grinned up at him, “ready to fall on your arse?”

Kit snorted, “unlikely,” he rolled his eyes before turning away smugly, letting her go. She pouted but too busy stroking his own overly huge ego, he didn’t notice her displeasure with his letting her go. Indignant, she reached towards him and pinched his arse cheek before he could hobble out of arm’s reach.

He yelped; a high pitched, surprised squeak.

Emilia blinked, taken aback by the unexpected sound she has yet to hear from him. When she overcame her surprise, she giggled, so loudly. 

“Shhh,” he hushed her, even if he tried to stifle his own laugh. She glanced about with tears in her eyes to see people looking away from them; probably after staring. Putting her own hand over her mouth to muffle her giggles, she slapped his arse before she took off; as much as she could in her skates, “oy!” he snapped and Emilia could hear him hobbling after her.

They made their unsteady way to the rink. Emilia did not even hesitate as she got on the ice, gleefully skating off. She loved skating; there was something exhilarating about it that drew her in. It could be the fluid, repetitive movement of it that calm her, it could the gorgeous white landscape, it could be the freedom and exhilaration she felt when she went really fast.

“Milly!” she heard him lament behind her.

She turned to see him trying to speed up to catch up but fumbling when he slipped a little. He caught himself and heaved a visible sigh of relief. The sight of him struggling tugged at her heart string and before she knew it, Emilia was skating back to him. He pouted at her and she could not help but take his hand in hers. At her touch, he smiled softly down at her.

Until she took off.

His grip on her hand tightened as she sped up, towing him behind her, “Mil-!” his voice caught and she glanced back to see him looking completely frightened. He had her hand in a deathgrip. She laughed before she brought him along for a swift round around the rink. She skidded to a stop, tugging him to a stop with her. He staggered and grappled onto her for balance, “fuck! Fucking fuck,” he hissed as he straightened.

She giggled, holding him by his elbows.

The moment he regained his balance, Kit glanced around before his terrified expression smoothed to that of nonchalance. He shrugged for emphasis and she giggled so hard her stomach was starting to ache, “you’re horrible,” he whispered. She tried to reply with a snarky comment but could not quell her laughter. She felt Kit withdraw from her. When she saw him next, he had his phone out and he was taking a photo of her.

“S-s-stop!” she whined. She did not particularly minded having her photo taken after all these years of being in front of the lens. But the way Kit took her photos; his eyes trained so intently on her through the lens as though he only have eyes for her, always made her blush. She couldn’t help but feel self-conscious then. Though, Kit’s smile as he gazed down at it after he has taken it made her believe that maybe, just maybe, she was beautiful.

Standing where he left her, she watched Kit gaze down at the photo he has just taken with _that_ smile.

She chuckled, “take a boomerang of me!”

He furrowed his brows in puzzlement, “what?”

“A boomerang,” she repeated.

“What’s that?” Kit looked utterly confused.

Rolling her eyes, she pulled out her phone and opened the app for him before handing it to him. She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised with how far removed from social media Kit was, “it’s a short video clip, on repeat,” she explained as he took her phone, hesitantly, “just take it like a video but hold onto that button while you’re doing it,”

“Okay…” he sounded uncertain but he raised the phone anyway. The look in his eyes returned when he gazed at her through the phone, “ready?” he asked, looking to be concentrating too much to just be taking a photo, or a video.

She nodded, fighting the blush in her cheeks.

“You look so beautiful-“ he muttered but cut off mid-way when he tried to side step only to slip. He yelped and Emilia’s heart leaped straight into her mouth, “fuck,” he swore as he caught himself, clutching her phone.

She giggled.

Mocking a glare at her, he readied himself, “1, 2, 3, go!”

Kit gazed down at it, “did it work?” Emilia asked and skated over to peer at her phone. She giggled when she saw it, “yay,” she cheered.

Kit grinned, “I’m a pro, naturally,”

She rolled her eyes, snatching back her phone, “I hope you don’t mean at skating,” Kit snorted before he skated off, obviously trying to prove a point. She watched him go. He slipped just a little as he took off and a giggle burst from her. Her eyes, glued to him, followed him as he made a lap around the rink. In all honesty, he wasn’t that bad at all but Emilia loved the way he mocked a glare at her or rolled his eyes or, if she was lucky, pull her to him to tickle her when she teased him. He skated around the rink, his longish curls wild around his face, his arms akimbo as he tried to maintain his balance. She thought he looked adorable.

He completed his lap, approaching her with eyes bright with joy, windswept, flushed cheeks under his beard, a wide grin on his face. Childlike joy was etched on his face and a melodious laugh escaped him. Her heart was so full from the affection she felt for this man, it was close to bursting.

Then she noticed he was approaching her too quickly.

She watched his joy turn to panic in his eyes. She grinned, opening her arms to him, “c’mere, Kitten,” she grabbed him by the elbow as he collided in her, rolling the impact off by turning her body before she dragged him to a stop. When he realised he was safe and did not hit the ice, he laughed and she smiled as she watched joy lit his face up once more.

“See?!” Kit grinned smugly.

He acted prideful but Emilia knew inwardly, he was exceedingly diffident. Gazing up at his handsome grin, she decided not to tease him anymore. _It’s time._ She let go of his elbows and skated into his arms; easily her favourite spot in the whole world. His grin, if possible, brightened. Placing her hands on his chest, gazing up at him, she felt her stomach begin to churn with nerves as she tried to find the words to begin. Instead, she decided to start from the beginning, “do you remember when we skated together last?”

Kit nodded without even a tinge of hesitation, “of course I do,” his gaze softened and a small, wistful smile graced his lips.  

She chewed on her lip. The words were on her mind; it was a question to him but even the thought of saying it aloud made her blush, “do you remember what happened that day…?” she asked, hoping he would bring it up and make it easier for her.

He looked thoughtful, “you gave me a present,” he grinned. _Yes, I gave myself to you for your birthday because you asked…_ “my dream-“ she smiled, “watch,” her smile faltered.

“What else?” she prompted.

He was puzzled before his eyes lit up with recollection, “and cookies and cake!” he grinned.

She rolled her eyes, “other than that!”

He narrowed his eyes at her and Emilia realised too late she has overreacted. She blushed, “what’s going on?” he asked her cautiously but there was a softness to his voice.

_Fuck it, Clarke. It’s really not that hard!_

“Will you be my boyfriend?” she blurted.

He blinked, staring at her.

Silence engulfed both of them.

Even with other people skating around them, it might as well have been completely silent.

The silence stretched till it got almost awkward.

“No…” he moaned in complaint, his face twisting into despair and it was Emilia’s turn to be shell-shocked.

“What?” she gaped.

“No!” he whined loudly, “I am supposed to ask you!”

She giggled, “well, I did it first,” she boasted, feeling her middle warm nicely at his admission that he wanted to ask her, “so answer the fucking question,”

Kit sighed before he smiled helplessly, “if you can catch me,” he teased.

She had said that to him years back when he had asked her and Emilia both loved and hated him for using it against her now, “of course I can fucking catch you… I probably have to pick your soaked arse up from the ice when I do,” she laughed.

Kit pouted, “that would work better for me on dryland,”

Fighting the urge to lean up to kiss him, she asked impatiently, “so what will it be, Kitten?” she gazed up at him, now feeling confident but wanting to hear it from his lovely lips.

He took a deep breath, “fuck yes,” he whispered so softly he looked to have only mouthed it. Despite already knowing the answer, hearing it from him was exhilarating. She giggled, feeling her cheeks warm and her heart soar. His grin was wider than ever as she felt his hands brush her thigh, longing for her. He didn’t dare to hold her in public where they could be recognised at any time and similarly, Emilia did not dare to press herself to him. A soft laugh left him and Emilia shook her head in amusement at how secretly happy they were and how hard they were both evidently fighting the urge to be closer in this moment, “my mum is going to kill me when she finds out you asked me,”

She giggled, “good,”

“And you’re going to leave your boyfriend to die by his mother’s hand?” he asked softly. Her heart skipped a beat at how he referred to himself. _My boyfriend. Mine._

“Yes,” she giggled out, “of course.”

He bumped her forehead against hers but did not dare linger, a mock glare in his dark twinkling eyes, “Milly, did you bring me to this extra stop just to ask me that?”

She nodded coyly, “I wanted it to be special and nothing is more special than our first time,” _it was magical…_

Kit snorted, “fuck, it would have been special and hell, magical too, if you asked me while my hard dick is inside you. I would have cummed that instant-”

She burst into giggles, pushing him away, “you fucking wanker!”    

He grinned, clinging onto her hand with both of his and pulling himself back to her. Instead, she slid towards him and returned to the haven of his arms. With a pout, he whimpered, “alright, can we go back to the hotel now?” his eyes twinkled with unbridled eagerness and joy, leaving no question as to his plans for them once they did return to the hotel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, sorry for the length of this chapter! I got carried away but I hope this chapter explains why there is a Heavy fluff tag. Hope you guys enjoyed this :) Let me know which is your favourite part of this absolute monster of a chapter. 
> 
> Now off I go to reply all your lovely comments from the previous chapters.


	18. Worcestershire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An apology for the long wait wrapped up in an extra long chapter! Truly sorry for the long wait. Hope you enjoy :)

_18 th December 2016, Worcestershire, England_

**Emilia**

Worcester was a beautiful place. She loved everything about it, from the peace and quiet of the neighbourhood to the smell of the countryside and the river she could detect from the town. The town gave a sort of peacefulness she had always treasured. Or it could just be the sheer knowledge that she was near to Kitten.

She has not seen him since Caceres. The day after their day-off spent together, Kit had returned to Belfast to continue filming while she remained. She had offered to send him to the airport since she had one more day off while the crew figured out the mass battle sequence. However, they both decided against it at the thought that there could be paparazzi there, waiting to spot any game of thrones actors flying in or out of the country. The enthusiastic fans were quickly becoming mildly terrifying too, lying in wait for them to track their filming locations.

Thus, Kit left her in the hotel room, peppering sweet kisses to her face and all over her nude body. He had been thorough, kissing her even on each of her fingertips before tearing himself from her lest they got carried away and he missed his flight. Instead of feeling forlorn, Kit’s lingering scent on the warm sheets made her smile and she slipped back into a deep restful slumber, catching up on the sleep she lost, for the rest of her day-off.

The moment Emilia wrapped at Caceres, she took off to have her hair, makeup and costume removed before making her hasty way to the airport. She went straight to Worcester. Kit was still scheduled for one more day of filming in Belfast before he would start his holiday. Emilia was so excited to meet him she decided she was going to surprise Kit, if nothing but to get back at him for all the times he emerged at her doorstep.

But his birthday was in a few days. They have already established their holiday plans early on; spending Christmas at his parents’ and New Year at her mum’s. They would spend his birthday, on Boxing day at his parents’ and Emilia thought she needed the time to think of what to do and probably some time to prepare for it. She had contacted Jack a few days prior to ask if it would be convenient if she dropped by his parents’. Jack had graciously provided her his mother’s contact and so, Emilia found herself in contact with Deborah who told her she was more than welcomed to drop by early. When Emilia shyly asked Deborah to keep this from Kit, Deborah had snorted and said she wouldn’t even need to try to keep it from Kit for him not to know.

Emilia approached their door step. The last time she was here was in 2011, when she came to meet his parents officially for the first time and she remembered how terribly nervous she felt then.

Lugging her bags along, Emilia stepped up to the door. She had contemplated checking into her hotel first but her flight was early and so, Emilia decided to drop by the Haringtons’ first. She rang the doorbell, glancing about the neighbourhood. It was quiet, peaceful. She heard footsteps approaching the door.

“I think it’s Emilia, dear,” Emilia could hear Deborah hollering in the house, presumably to inform her husband.

Emilia chuckled, unsure if she should reply, “yes it’s Emilia,” she grinned, “I think,”

She heard a soft laugh through the door before it opened to reveal Deborah. Her white hair, littered with streaks of red, was combed neatly, her glasses propped straight across her nose; _Kit’s nose._ When she smiled, Emilia could see Kit’s eyes. Emilia mused then that Kit’s resemblance to his mother was slight but incredibly adorable. Or it could just be that she missed Kitten too much.

“Hi!” Emilia grinned.

“How are you my darling?” Deborah beamed. Emilia was about to lean in for merely a cheek kiss but was pulled in for a warm hug and firm kisses on each cheek. _There’s nothing like a mother’s hug and kiss_.

“I’m good,” Emilia smiled, hugging her back, “and you?” they drew back and Deborah cupped her cheeks, studying her critically the way Emilia’s own mother would when she hadn’t seen her for a while. Her belly tingled and warmed at the concern in Deborah’s brown eyes as her eyes searched her.

“Good, but we missed Kit and you terribly,” Deborah said but the teasing smile on her lips made Emilia giggle.

“We will try to visit more often,” Emilia grinned, cupping Deborah’s hand on her cheek with hers.

“You grew thin,” Deborah frowned, shooting her an accusing look.

Emilia laughed, thinking of all the food she ate in Spain, “I think I _grew_ ,” she could have sworn she detected the extra cellulite that gathered on her thighs when she got dressed this morning. And her stomach sank when she saw it, especially after what she had in mind for Kit’s birthday.

“Have you been sleeping at all?” Deborah sighed.

“I try to but Kit has been very demanding,” Emilia blurted cheekily. She has meant it as a simple joke about Kit’s constant whining and need for attention rather than any sexual innuendos. However, the moment she said it, she knew explaining was futile. Her cheeks warmed when she realised what she has just said. _To my boyfriend’s mother._ She wanted to cover her burning face but could not even bring herself to move or say anything to correct what she had just said. _Fucking hell, why does this always happen to me?_

Deborah paused, seemingly stunned.

 _God… shut the fuck up, Clarke._ Emilia could sink into the floor if only a sinkhole would open up under her.

Then Deborah laughed heartily. She laughed so hard she held her tummy. She laughed till tears gathered at the corner of her eyes and Deborah lifted her glasses to wipe at her eyes only for a fresh wave of laughter to overcome her.

“I’m sorry,” Emilia chuckled hesitantly.

“N-no,” Deborah managed breathlessly through her laughter, “I know Kit’s a right piece of work when he tries to be,” she took a deep breath to calm herself only to laugh softly.

Emilia giggled, “that he can be,”

“For god’s sake Deb,” Kit’s father appeared behind Deborah, “let the poor girl in,”

“Oh, right!” Deborah flustered, taking her hand and tugged her through the doorway, “forgive the old lady,”

Emilia shook her head, “not at all!” she made to turn to grab her bags, “I’ll just-“

“Nonsense! David will get those, won’t you dear?” Deborah said.

“Of course!” David beamed, “letting a beautiful lady carry her own bags should be against the law,” Emilia laughed as she glanced worriedly for Kit’s elderly dad to be hoisting her heavy bags in.

“Don’t tell me Kit doesn’t usually get your bags,” Deborah fixed a stern look on her.

“Depends on his mood,” Emilia teased, grinning good-naturedly and Deborah nodded sagely, a picture of complete understanding, “but he is usually the perfect gentleman,” she subtly took the bag from David as he hoisted it over the threshold, “though I doubt as perfect a gentleman as his father.”

David looked equal parts chuffed as he is put out that his son did not seem to inherit his good manners. He sighed, “young men these days no longer treat their ladies right. I’ll speak to Kit-“

“Like you haven’t been trying to lecture both Kit and Jack the last 30 years about being a gentleman,” Deborah rolled her eyes, “if they don’t learn then, they won’t learn now,” David sighed heavily and Emilia laughed.

“In all seriousness, Kit is a dear!” Emilia smiled, her heart swelling at the thought and mention of said man, “you two raised a great man,” Deborah’s brows raised and she smiled, looking to be close to tearing, “although, you didn’t hear that from me,” Emilia chuckled, “I wouldn’t hear the end of it if Kit finds out!” she lamented.

“Oh, **we know** ,” both David and Deborah said, laughing.   

“We have to be careful with the praises we sing to that one,” Deborah mumbled although the fondness was clear in her eyes, “or we risk hearing about it all Christmas!”

Emilia giggled. _That’s my Kitten…_

“Come on, we’ll help you bring your bags upstairs-“ Deborah reached for her bags.

“Oh no need,” Emilia reached for them, “I have a hotel booked actually but it isn’t time yet to check-in and I did not want to trouble the staff-“

“Nonsense!” David looked offended and Emilia paused, “you can stay with us. Kit’s childhood bedroom is more than large enough-“

As much as the thought of having Kit beside her all the time during their stay in Worcester pleased her, the thought of what could ensue from that, and _in his fucking parents’ house,_ had her blushing a deep red. They have had a terrible track record of practicing self-restraint around the other.

David seemed oblivious as he continued, “it is not much and the boy has never really took care of his room but Deborah cleaned it right up just yesterday,” David gestured at the spotless house.

Ignoring her husband, Deborah seemed to have caught onto her blush, “oh you can stay in one of the guest rooms if you’d prefer. They are all ready-”

“Oh no, I would hate to trouble you-“ Emilia said sheepishly.

“Not at all! We would love to have you stay with us this Christmas,” Deborah said, holding both her hands, “I thought that’s what you meant when I heard you two were coming over to spend Christmas and Boxing Day with us. We were thrilled to hear…” Deborah’s smile faded just so, the disappointment palpable in her eyes and Emilia felt incredibly guilty.

“Kit would be staying here,” Emilia clarified, “I just didn’t want to make all of you uncomfortable by staying here…”

“Rubbish!” David snapped, sounding so angry that Emilia was a little afraid she had offended the suddenly stern patriarch.

“Oh we would love to have you in our house with us this holiday, Emilia,” Deborah smiled, fixing her a soft, beseeching gaze, “it would be our honour,” David nodded.

Glancing between David and Deborah, Emilia relented, “alright,” identical grin lit up their kind faces and Emilia hated to interrupt it but she must, “but,” they paused, “only if you allow me to do my part for the chores,”

Deborah’s gaze softened the way Kit’s do, “you are a dear,” Deborah said, her voice warm. She squeezed Emilia’s hand that she still held and Emilia squeezed her hand back, “isn’t she, Dave?” David smiled.

Under their soft, adoring gaze, Emilia blushed, “my mother will beat me silly if she finds out I did nothing for the holidays but sit and eat,”

Deborah chuckled, “I like your darling mum already. I know it may be a little late, but I would love for her to come over for Christmas if she would like,” Deborah smiled a sad smile and Emilia knew she was referring to her dad’s passing.

“Thank you but she’ll be spending it at my uncle’s this year,” Emilia replied, feeling touched Deborah thought to invite her mum over.

Deborah smiled, “next year maybe?”

“I’ll ask her,” Emilia promised, her affection for Deborah and her kind heart growing. Deborah patted her cheek gently.

“Come on, we’ll get you settled in,” they proceeded to pick up her bags and headed upstairs.

“Kit doesn’t know I’m here, does he?” Emilia asked. Deborah smiled knowingly and shook her head, “thank you,” the thought of how surprised he would be made Emilia exceptionally excited, “Deborah… can I ask you what Kit usually likes to have for Christmas?”

“To eat?” Deborah asked.

Emilia shrugged, “to eat… or to have as a present,”

“Well, he is not particular about what to eat and usually eats whatever I cook but he loves the Yorkshire pudding and the roast beef or a good beef wellington,” Deborah replied patiently, her face softening as she mentioned her son, “and as a present… I think he loves the cookies and cake you baked for him the most. I have never him so happy to receive a present or so upset when he found out Jack finished the lot of cookies,” Deborah chuckled.

Emilia giggled, “he complained about it for _days_ ,”

“Kit looked like he wanted to strangle his old man,” David added, “when I told him I ate a bit of it as well,” Emilia chuckled, shaking her head.

Deborah shook her head, “you should see him sulk, hugging that empty jar,” they came to the second landing, “do you want the guest room? Or Kit’s old childhood bedroom,”

“Kit’s room,” she murmured in reply, her cheeks blushing furiously, “if it is alright,”

Deborah chuckled, “of course it is alright,”

“I know Kit would appreciate it,” David smirked as he brought her luggage into the room, “if he could, he would request to be stuck at the hips with you.”  

Emilia’s cheeks warmed further as Deborah clucked her tongue in disapproval at her husband. The moment the door opened, Emilia detected Kit’s amber, woody scent. Her heart fluttered and she was greeted with the same sight that greeted her years before when she came here. She chuckled at the photo she saw on the stand. 

Picking it up, she gazed down at his sweet face. _Our little muffin would be so adorable with those eyes and the hair._

“That’s Kit with Jack and their cousin,” Deborah came to stand beside her, smiling. Then Deborah pointed to another photo.

“And that is Kit refusing to wear his trousers at school,” Deborah chuckled, “I was so embarrassed when the principal called me to tell me that. I thought Kit has gotten into some major trouble at school,”

“He mentioned,” Emilia giggled, “he still hates wearing trousers or pants…” her cheeks warmed at what she just blurted out. There was just something motherly and comforting, calming, about Deborah’s presence that reminded Emilia very much of her own mother, and so, resulted in her losing her filter.  

Deborah laughed, “that’s probably the only reason why I ring the doorbell and knock before entering his house. To save him the embarrassment,”

Emilia chuckled, brushing the back of her knuckles fondly over the sweet cherubic face of Kitten in the photo, “he is an adorable baby,”

“Oh he is,” Deborah followed her gaze, agreeing, “you wouldn’t believe the amount of attention his grandmothers and aunts gave him on all the holiday. I still believe his good looks and the attention he has been getting throughout his life contributed to his constant need for attention,” Emilia giggled.

“Unfortunately, he still has his good looks and has been getting massive amounts of attention,” Emilia feigned a sigh. Deborah laughed, “Deborah…if it’s alright, I would like to borrow your kitchen for today,” Emilia said. At Deborah’s questioning look, Emilia explained, squatting by her bag, “I would like to bake some cookies and Kit’s birthday cake this year, if that is alright,” she pulled out a few packets of flour and some other ingredients.

Deborah blinked, “we usually buy his birthday cake from the store in town but I’m sure he will love whatever you bake,”

“Thank you,” she grinned, “also,” she flushed, embarrassed to have so many request of her, “will it be alright if I celebrated Kit’s birthday with him before Christmas? I know how much he hates that Christmas day and Boxing day overshadow his birthday… I thought it will be nice for him to have a day for himself before all the festivities,”

Deborah seemed surprised again, “of course. You are absolutely right about Kit’s birthday being overshadowed. Over the years, we have been getting him one present for both Christmas and his birthday. And he always did seem grumpy on Boxing Day. We usually ignore him though,” Emilia laughed, “he is going to get even more spoiled with you accommodating him like that,” Deborah warned but Emilia could see the appreciation for what she intended to do for Kit shining through her gentle eyes.  

“Well, I guess I signed myself up for it,” Emilia chuckled.

* * *

Deborah was extremely helpful and gracious even when Emilia descended upon her kitchen which was considered sacred ground for most matriarch. Every time, Emilia needed any equipment, she would try to look for it but ended up feeling bad she was rummaging through her things and wind up having to ask Deborah for it anyway.

“Thank you so much, Deborah and I am so sorry for all the trouble,” Emilia bit her lip as Deborah handed over the sieve.

“No problem at all, darling,” Deborah smiled kindly.

“Would you and David prefer the nutty type of cookies or the chocolatey type?” Emilia grinned.

Deborah raised a brow, “there’ll be some for us too?” she teased, feigning complete surprise.

Emilia giggled, “yes of course, I’m in the midst of teaching him how to share,”

Deborah laughed, “I like the nutty ones but we have to cut down on sugar…”

“One jar of healthy, nutty cookies coming right up,” Emilia declared.

“Thank you darling,” Deborah chuckled, reaching for her to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Emilia felt a warmth creep into her heart at the gesture.

“Go rest on the couch, I’ll try not to destroy your kitchen,”

Deborah laughed, nodding as she left the kitchen.

The baking took up more time than Emilia thought. She was forced to stop when Deborah invited her out for dinner at a local restaurant. It was a lovely meal and Emilia fought over the bill with them, coming out unsuccessful when David insisted that they paid, given it was her first few times in town. The moment they returned to the house, Emilia went straight to the kitchen.

She had just popped the next batch into the oven when Deborah came into the kitchen quietly. Emilia looked up to see Deborah already in her nightgown with a large bathrobe. She glanced to the clock, surprised to see that it was getting really late and she hasn’t even started on the cake. Emilia had overestimated herself and planned to bake more cookies than the little oven Deborah owned could bake in such a short amount of time. That, and she was extremely ambitious, wanting to bake a huge amount of cookies to feed the Haringtons for all of Christmas. She knew their extended family would descend upon them on Boxing day and she didn’t want the cookies to run out before Kit’s birthday. Despite that, she was determined to finish.

“Not done yet?” Deborah asked kindly but her brows furrowed with worry.

“Almost,” Emilia forced a weak smile. Truth be told, she was completely knackered. Her fingers were tired from rolling the cookie dough and her arms were aching from kneading dough and carrying baking trays.  

“Do you need any help?” Deborah asked, peering into the oven.

“It’s fine, you can head off to bed first. It’s no problem, I can clean up after,” Emilia put on the brightest and widest smile on her face.

Deborah glanced over at the jars of cookies that lined the counter, “can I try one?”

“Sure!” Emilia grinned, pointing to the nearest jar, “those ones are the nutty, healthy ones,” Emilia pried the lid off and offered her one.

Deborah glanced to the door, “don’t tell David,” she winked before she carefully lifted one cookie. Emilia giggled and folded her lips. She watched, strangely anxious as Deborah took a small bite, collecting the crumbs with her other hand, “mmmm,” she hummed as she tasted it, her eyes lighting up behind her glasses and Emilia waited with a bated breath, “it’s fantastic, Emilia!” Deborah said in a hushed whisper, mindful of her husband hearing her, “you are great at baking and might as well, Kit just doesn’t have the aptitude for that,”

Emilia flushed, “these are the only few recipes I can do and I watch a lot of the Bake-Off,”

“I only wish Dave would allow me to watch that on the tele for an hour every week,” Deborah sighed, “that TV hog,”

“You can watch it online!” Emilia enthused, “I do that because it’s impossible for me to watch it when it is airing. You can watch it on your phone, or a tablet. Kit has an ipad,” the moment Emilia said it, she knew Kit would throttle her for offering his mum his ipad on his behalf.

Deborah’s smile tentatively widened, “oh I would need a lot of help with that, I’m still trying to figure out how to edit my pictures which are too dark, or too bright, or too blurry. Kit tried to teach me but lord, it is difficult,”

“You’ll get there,” Emilia grinned, “I’m still figuring out the filters myself. It’s all good fun,”

The oven bell rang and Emilia quickly turned away to pull the fresh batch out of the oven. As she usually does after every batch just to check the quality, she nicked a random piece and popped it into her mouth. It was divine and Emilia grinned, pleased with herself. She simply was beside herself with excitement for Kit to finally be here and be able to taste them. She wondered if he would like them as much as he did the last batch she baked for him. Emilia left them out to cool before turning to the bowl of cookie dough to proceed to the next batch.

“Are you going to bake the cake tonight too?” Deborah asked and Emilia glimpsed her glancing around for it.

Emilia blushed, embarrassed, “yeah, I wanted to… I don’t want Kit to watch me doing it and he will be arriving tomorrow,” her stomachs did excited flips at the mere mention of it, “and it is supposed to be a surprise until I celebrate with him before Christmas…” then a thought came to her and Emilia would have slapped her forehead if her fingers weren’t coated with flour and dough. Swallowing a curse, Emilia lamented, “and… I forgot to ask if I can keep the cake with a neighbour or… Kit would see it if it is in the fridge…” she whimpered, “I’m so sorry for the trouble-“

Deborah laughed, “it’s no problem! I’ll arrange for it to be ‘hidden’, until we celebrate his birthday,”

Emilia grinned, relieved, “great. I should have it out by the morning,”

Deborah blinked, her smile fading fast, “are you going to bake through the night?”

Emilia glanced around at the progress and shrugged, giving her a helpless smile, “I suppose so…”

Deborah smiled at her, a warm, gentle look in her eyes. Emilia was beginning to feel terribly self-conscious under her gaze when Deborah approached. She cupped Emilia’s cheeks, tilting her face up so she could look at her properly. Then Deborah told her, her voice warm, “I don’t know what Kit did to deserve you, truly. He may not realise it or tell you, but he is so, _very_ lucky to have you,” tears pricked her eyes but Emilia fought her tears.

“I am lucky to have him,” she blurted in response. _He tells me… more often than I tell him… “_ as grumpy as he gets sometimes…” she rolled her eyes. Deborah’s smile widened.

Then the shrill ringing of her phone shattered the moment. Emilia turned to glance to her phone on the counter.

**Kitten.**

His handsome, unsmiling, face lit up her screen. Blushing, Emilia glanced to see Deborah looking at the phone as well.

“Speaking of the little devil,” she smiled, “I’ll leave you two to it. Try to get some sleep, Emilia. Kit would never forgive me if I let you stay up the night, baking,”

Emilia grinned, nodding but she could not help but bolt for the sink the moment Deborah was out of sight. She washed her hands hastily before grabbing her phone off the counter. They hadn’t arranged to talk tonight because they would be seeing each other the next day but Kit was spontaneous like that and Emilia realised, he had a knack of doing what she wanted even if they hadn’t plan for it. Reminding herself that she was supposed to be having a nights-out with Lena, the last in Caceres, instead of being in England, Emilia picked up and eagerly pressed her ear to the phone.

It was quiet momentarily and Emilia waited with a bated breath to finally hear his voice.

“Milly,” he greeted her like he usually did and Emilia loved it. She loved the sound of her name on his lips. She loved that it is always the first thing he heard on the phone, “my darling Milly,” she thought she could hear the smile in his voice.

“Kitten,” she could barely contain a giggle born of sheer exhilaration, at the sound of his voice and the thought of seeing him soon. One more night.

“What are you doing?” Kit asked, his voice soft, hushed, “you sound tired,” he croaked sadly.

 _How did he know?_ Emilia glanced to the screen of the phone to check if it was a video call. It wasn’t. Saving herself the trouble to have to lie to him if she acknowledged it for he was sure to ask, Emilia said back, “ _you_ sound tired,”

Kit chuckled, “don’t change the subject, darling. I’m asking you,” she could see his grin.

“I’m fine,” she told him, “have you just finished filming?”

“Yes,” Kit relented and replied, his voice strangely thick.

“Have you had your dinner?” Emilia asked. She looked up when she glimpsed Deborah and David standing at the door. Deborah gestured that they was going to sleep. Emilia smiled and nodded, watching them proceed to bed after a little wave.

“Yes, mum,” Kit replied teasingly.

Making sure his parents were out of earshot, Emilia rolled her eyes, “don’t be a dick,” she whispered.

“Why are you speaking so softly?” Kit asked.

“Why are you?” Emilia asked back.

Kit chuckled, in that affectionate way only he could manage, “in a defensive mood today I see,” Emilia huffed but ignored him and Kit said, “I’m in the hotel room, surrounded by my bags which are already fully packed. And I am struggling to spend yet another night without you,” she heard him grunt as he presumably rolled over on the bed, “and I miss you so fucking much,” his voice cracked just barely and her eyes welled with tears as she clung, almost obsessively, to his every word and the croak of his velvet voice. She hugged herself, wishing it was his arms around her.

 _Soon._ It was how Emilia has been comforting herself and she smiled at the thought.

“I miss you too, Kitten,” she sighed, leaning against the counter, “I miss you so much,” she choked on her words. Swallowing, she steadied her voice, “how was your day?”

“A lot of stunts,” she could hear the joy in his voice, “it was fucking tiring, I can barely lift my arms now but fun and completely worth it. Kristofer was hilarious, as usual. Oh and you know what? We were filming one of the fight scenes with the walkers…” Emilia smiled as Kit related the day’s events to her. It did sound like a lot of fun and Emilia felt her heart swell in her chest, glad for the fantastic day Kit has had. It was a while later before Kit’s story came to an end and by then, he had her giggling herself into some pretty strong stitches.

“You’re so silly, Kitten,” she giggled.

“Made you happy,” Kit replied instantly and Emilia blinked, “it doesn’t matter how silly I am,” he told her, his voice soft, deep; thick with emotion, “how was your night?”

Emilia glanced around her at the mess and uncompleted cookies and cake, she smiled, “not over,” proud of herself for being able to tell the truth.

A low chuckle resonated in her ear, “don’t party too hard, or stay out too late,” Kit reminded gently, “you still have to travel out to Worcester tomorrow,” she hummed, a mild noise of acknowledgement. She knew saying too much would give her away with how bad a liar she was and how well Kit knew her, “what time would you arrive in Worcester?”

She pretended to recall before saying, “around 10am, I think,” she shrugged.

Kit seemed to be pondering too deeply to notice anything amiss as he replied, “I’ll be there,” a pause and Emilia smiled, soaking in the moment of just being close to him; even if through a phone line. Her eyes slipped shut and Emilia thought she could feel his face adjacent to hers, so close that she could press her cheek to his if she leaned closer. His sweet warmth felt so tantalising on her skin, “ _Mils_ …” a broken whisper.

She felt her heart wrench and tears threatened to spill over her cheeks. She opened her eyes to come back to the kitchen in the Harington’s household. She blinked away tears. _I love you._ “What time will you arrive in Worcester?”

A raw sniff almost broke her. He cleared his throat and replied, “around an hour or two before you. So I will probably just drop my bags at home so I can help with yours,” his voice sounded surprisingly steady, “we both know how large and heavy your bags would be,” he teased.

She mocked a scowl, even if he wasn’t here to see it, “says the one who tends to over pack!” she shot back hotly.

“It doesn’t make your bag any less large or heavy,” he replied. She couldn’t help but agree with him then and a giggle slipped unwittingly from her lips. He chuckled along with her. A telling pause followed and Emilia knew as much as she didn’t want to stop chatting, it was time to end the phone call.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” she said softly, forcing a smile onto her face that she hoped Kit could hear in her voice.

“Yeah, I’ll see you,” Kit replied. His words lingered in the air and Emilia found herself repeating the way he spoke each word in her head, “goodnight, Milly,” he whispered.

“Goodnight,” she said.

He stayed on the line as did she.

A short, light laugh. _The most wonderful sound I have heard in a long time._ He hung up and she glanced to the phone. A wide smile spread her face and she bit her lips, trying to fight it but to no avail as she held the phone against her chest. Putting the phone down on the counter, the smile remained etched on her face as she resumed baking.

* * *

**Kit**

He stood at the doorstep of the house, raising his hand to the doorbell. Then the fragrance of food wafted to his nose. He paused, surprised. Since his father was diagnosed with a heart disease a few years back, his mother has stopped cooking a sumptuous breakfast. Despite there being healthier options, they both decided to eat a simple breakfast that didn’t involve firing up the stove because both he and Jack were no longer living with them.

At the thought that his mum could be cooking to welcome him home, Kit eagerly knocked on the door, “Mum, it’s me,” he hollered. He resolved to wait a little longer, knowing his mother would need some time to put down whatever she was cooking. It smelled so damn good. Thus, Kit was stunned when the door flew open before he could even drop his hand from the door.

“Kit!” his mother basically screeched as she pulled him down for a firm hug. She combed his hair with her fingers as she held his head over her shoulder. He felt firm, wet kisses on his cheek before he was released from strangulation.

“I missed you too mum,” Kit chuckled as he drew back. His mother was beaming brightly up at him as she cupped his bearded face.

“You look good,” his mother seemed satisfied by what she saw when she allowed her hands to drop to his shoulders, squeezing his arms firmly, “happy,” she said decidedly.

“Kit!”

Kit looked over her shoulder to see his father. Kit grinned, “Dad,” he walked into his father’s open arms, revelling in the way his father’s strong hands clapped his back firmly.

“Good to see you, Kit! You are looking very good,”

Kit pulled back to grin at his father, “you too,” he turned to his mother. Seeing their bright smiles, Kit suddenly felt some guilt at not visiting more frequently and he resolved to do so. Then Kit glanced into the sitting room, “Jack not here yet?” 

“Not yet,” his mum shook her head, a strange smile on her lips, “would you like some breakfast?”

At that reminder, Kit could not contain a wide grin, his mouth watering. He knew why he was so eager. Of course, he was always eager to home-cooked breakfast. But he could tell by the smell that breakfast would be fry-up. _Emilia would love this._ Fry-ups reminded him of her and any reminder of her made his head float among the clouds, especially now when he would see her in under an hour.

“Of course,” Kit replied. Glancing at the clock, he saw that if he left now to get Emilia, he would probably reach about half an hour before she was scheduled to arrive. _She could arrive early… couldn’t she?_ Kit shifted impatiently from one foot to the other, already knowing he would not be able to sit and wait at home, “but I’ll go fetch Emilia, she’ll be arriving at around 10. Then we’ll come back for breakfast,” his mother raised a brow, that strange smile still on her face but Kit did not have the time to figure it out now, “sorry, wouldn’t be able to help for breakfast but I’ll wash the dishes later, promise,” Kit made to turn to head out the door but paused at a thought, “oh and if you are making a fry-up, Emilia doesn’t like a fried bread. Just toasted or plain would be good-“

“Kit!” his mother snapped and Kit paused, “what time will Emilia arrive?” her eyes were twinkling behind her glasses and Kit studied her, puzzled that she was asking and how elated she looked.

Nonetheless, Kit replied, “she said around 10am,”

His mother glanced to the clock, snorting, “you have more than enough time to have breakfast, or at least help me with your dad’s breakfast, before going to meet Emilia. Come on, help your ol’ mum in the kitchen,” his mother nodded towards the kitchen where the smell was wafting from. Kit was torn, shooting her a pained look. He was much too excited to see Emilia to eat breakfast; his stomach was currently in the midst of many happy flips, “it wouldn’t be but a minute,” his mum said firmly, the tone that boded no argument.

Kit drew out his phone from his pocket to see that there was no text from Emilia yet. _Strange, she usually texts me before she boards the flight._ He felt a niggling worry creep into his chest but Kit shook it off, dismissing it for her probably forgotten to. She would probably be knackered after that night out with Lena. _She was always great fun on a night out._ Kit mused, wondering what she got up to last night.

There was no reason Kit could think of for him to reject his mum’s suggestion and Kit did not want to break his mum’s heart. _Not so soon anyway. She just looks so happy to see me…_ Guilt gnawed at him and Kit nodded, albeit reluctantly, “alright, for fifteen minutes, no more or I’ll be late,”

His mother’s smile widened as she eagerly chaperoned Kit into the kitchen. 

Kit chuckled at his mum’s enthusiasm but walked into the kitchen nonetheless. As he got closer to the kitchen, his stomach grumbled and Kit began plotting how he was going to sneak a bacon into his mouth before he left, “why did you decide to cook fry-ups anyway? I thought-“

Then he saw her.

She was standing with her back to him, at the stove, but Kit would recognise her anywhere. Her brunette hair was tied in a bun atop her head. She was wearing a green jumper and grey joggers.

He froze, his mind racing but coming to no logical conclusions. _What the fuck is going on here? Am I going insane?_

“I don’t know, ask Emilia,” his mother replied his previous question about the fry-ups, her voice dripping with amusement. He turned to his mother, staring wide-eyed at her. The sight of his mother was much easier to comprehend than what was currently in front of him. His mother looked utterly amused as she chuckled. He followed his mother’s gaze to the stove to see that she has turned around.

_Fuck she is beautiful._

Emilia had loose strands of hair around her face that probably came loose while she cooked. Her cheeks were flushed from the heat but Kit could see her face was bare of makeup, even her lips. She wore a brown apron over the green jumper and grey joggers that looked two sizes too large for her. She looked positively tiny. On her feet, she wore black bedroom slippers that Kit did not recognise. A winning smile lit up her face, her eyes crinkling to match her lovely smile and Kit felt his own breath catch in his chest at the wonderful sight.

His heart ached and his eyes welled up with tears.

“Oh Kit,” he was mildly aware of his mother stroking his arm beside him, “don’t cry, baby,”

Emilia giggled and opened her arms to him. He managed to move his feet and Kit dashed across the kitchen, covering the distance between them in a span of milliseconds. In his eagerness, he bent and scooped her up around her thighs, lifting her clean off the ground.

Her giggles were so loud and shrill then, that with her lips by his ear, Kit was momentarily deafened but at that moment, he did not have a care in the world beyond the sound of her giggles, the feel of her sweet weight in his arms, the warmth of her against him, her arms around his neck, the smell of her filling his lungs.

When he pulled his head back so he could look at her, he realised his face was wet from his own tears. Renewed giggles shook her frame when she took one look at him and Kit took in and quickly memorised the sight of happiness on her face, “why are you crying, Kitten?” she cupped his face, her thumbs raking across his cheeks gently but firmly even as unshed tears welled up in her eyes.

He shook his head, “fancy seeing you here,” he grinned cheekily.

She laughed, evidently remembering that he had said that years ago as well, “did I surprise you?”  

“ _Yes,_ ” Kit breathed, “ _fuck yes_ ,” he narrowed his eyes, “are you making it a habit of surprising me at my own home on my birthday?”

“No! Don’t get used to it,” giggling, she scuffed his beard affectionately, melting his heart and stealing it in one simple gesture, “now, put me back down,” she wiggled in his arms but Kit’s arms only tightened around her thighs.

“No,” he replied simply, drinking in the sight of gorgeous sight of her, “never,” he grinned before he craned his neck up to bury his face into the crook of her neck, relishing the warmth he found there.

He kissed the soft skin of her neck. Squirming, she laughed, “stop it,”

“No,” his reply was muffled as he nuzzled his face firmly before he gazed up at her. She met his eye, her gaze darting down to his lips before she dipped her head to press a tender kiss to his lips. He craned his neck up, leaning into her lips as much as he could. Her lips felt incredibly soft against his as she took his bottom lip between hers. He felt her grin when she tugged on his lips playfully, humming with contentment. He sneaked a taste of her, delighting in her sweetness. He chuckled when her tongue darted forward to tease the tip of his cheekily before withdrawing.

He lowered her to her feet only to capture her little face between his hands to trap her against his lips. His tongue plundered her sweet warm mouth and his entire body coiled with adoration and desire for this very being. A soft, breathy moan emitted from deep within her throat as she leaned into his lips, her petite body easing against his. Her fingers brushed the nape of his neck before threading themselves through his curls. He melted into her tender touch as his hands slipped from her face to retrace their usual paths down her curves.

To his delight, his hands found her soft rounded arse and his palm and fingers moulded around each cheek before he gave her a firm, lingering squeeze. _Oh god, I want you so badly._ Her breath hitched against his mouth and Kit grinned, pulling her hips flushed against his. He was about to slap her playfully when she pulled away abruptly. His body tensed in objection at her imminent departure and his hands tightened on her, giving her no escape.

A deep laugh came from behind him, “the bacon is burning, son,”

Somewhere in the back of Kit’s mind, he recognised his own father’s voice. They jumped apart and Kit turned to see his father standing at the doorway to the kitchen, grinning at them over his reading glasses. Kit felt his cheek warmed. Beside him, Emilia cleared her throat and turned back to the stove hurriedly to flip the smoking and probably charred bacon.

His mother’s voice carried into the kitchen then, “Dave! If you’ve interrupted them in the kitchen, I swear-”

“I’m not going to stand by and let my house burn down!” David hollered back.  

“Alright, dad, we got it,” Kit muttered, turning to busy himself at the sink. Fighting the burn of his cheeks, Kit focussed on thoroughly washing his hands; even making sure to clean under his nails even if they weren’t even the slightest bit dirty. Kit heard his father chuckle before Kit heard his retreating footsteps. When his dad has returned to the living room and he could hear soft whispers between his father and mother, Kit turned to meet Emilia’s eye as she met his eye.

Her cheeks were a pretty pink. The moment his eyes met hers, she turned back to the stove, coy. Kit chuckled as he dried his hands before coming to stand beside her. She had put in a fresh batch of bacon.

“When did you arrive?” he asked softly, eagerly drinking in the sweet sight of her. Closer now, he could see the fatigue in her gaze and the faint but present shadow under her eyes. Sighing, he leaned closer, letting his arm rest against her shoulder.

“It’s a secret,” she replied evenly but Kit could detect the way she leaned into his arm.

He rolled his eyes, “is it?” he scoffed. Unable to contain his smile, Kit leaned closer. His heart fluttered when her lips curved into a small smile. Ducking his head, he rested his forehead against the side of her head, nudging her insistently. He gazed at her as he nuzzled against her, letting the tip of his nose trail against her warm cheek, “you look tired,”

She smiled, shying away, “I’m fine,” he wanted to huff in annoyance at her simple dismissal of his concern, “are you hungry?”

Grinning, he leaned closer to lick her cheek, “starving,”

“Kitten!” she complained but he had glimpsed the flash of a smile on her lips anyway. His grin did not abate in the slightest as he nuzzled his face against the side of hers and wherever she would allow him to nuzzle against in her sudden bout of shyness, “stop-“ she whined and he chuckled. Unable to resist, he slipped his arms around her waist, exploring the tantalising shape of her body beneath the thick jumper-

“Isn’t this my jumper?” he asked, feeling the fabric as he traced the curve of her small waist.

“Yes it is,” she admitted, “I missed the smell of you,” she said so softly and meekly, Kit wondered if he heard her right. When he ducked to catch her eye to confirm if he heard her right, she smiled sheepishly at him.

 _My sweet Milly…H_ e sighed. Gently extracting the spatula from her hand, ignoring her mild noise of objection, Kit collected her into a firm hug, feeling her arms tighten about his waist. No words needed to be said as he buried his face into her neck, letting her scent wash over his senses. _I miss the smell of you too…_ He held her for as long as she’d allow before she started squirming.

Giggling, she said, wedging her arm between them to push him away gently, “Kitten, the bacon is going to burn again,” he chuckled, hanging on for as long as possible, “Kitten, I’m serious,” she said, her voice lowering as she grew solemn, “and your mum and dad are going to walk in on us-“

“You smell lovely,” he tried to kiss her. She shied away with a giggle and his lips found her cheeks instead. But Kit counted his victories anyway and he took a deep lungful of her warm skin before tearing himself from her. He pulled his arms from around her.

“Careful,” she muttered as she grabbed his hand from wandering too close to the pan and shoved him away from the stove playfully. Kit glanced to the counter for the first time to see four large plate of food beside the stove. She was almost done with the fry-ups. Peering curiously down at the plates, Kit could not help but notice that the plates were noticeably different.

Two of them were identical; the classic fry-ups. The other two resembled fry-ups but there seemed to be some modifications. The eggs were scrambled and poached, fatty bacon were replaced with a couple of rashers of lean bacon that looked steamed, mushrooms, grilled tomatoes, the fried bread looked different too.

The smell was making him notice how famished he was. He reached for a steamed bacon, hoping he would be able to nick a small piece before she noticed but she clicked her tongue, “Kitten!” she scolded. When he had the courtesy to look sheepishly towards her, her lips were pursed against a smile, “don’t,”

He pouted, “I’m hungry,”

Mocking a glare at him, she skilfully picked up a stray piece of bacon from the pan with the spatula. Blowing on it gently, she fed it to him. Kit beamed, chewing into it happily. He hummed in pure satisfaction. She rolled her eyes, “Kitten darling, can you please set the table?”

His heart skipped a beat at the endearment. It was ridiculous how she could make such an embarrassing nickname sound so endearing, “mmm, of course, my love,” he grinned, feigning a sappy expression when she blushed at the unexpected reply.

“You are so cheesy!” she scoffed, biting back a laugh. Pecking her on her cheek firmly, Kit practically skipped to the drawers and collected the cutleries before he spun his way out of the kitchen with a dramatic flourish. A giggle, “be careful you don’t trip and fall on your arse,” came the sarcastic remark.

Kit chuckled to himself as he lay out the table mats and cutleries. When he went back into the kitchen, Emilia has switched the stove off and was trying to juggle the plates, “I got it,” he muttered, rushing forward to take the plates from her.

“Thank you,” she met his eye, smiling sweetly. It was something Kit always loved about her; how grateful she always was. No matter who it was, she’d look the person in the eye as she thanked them. It was something he learned from her and has been trying to make a habit of doing every day.

Even as his chest swelled at her heartfelt thanks, he felt the need to chide her for the formality, “don’t mention it,” he fixed her with a unwavering stare, “you’re talking to your boyfriend, Clarke,”

A blush coloured her face and Kit chuckled, leaning closer to press a kiss to the top of her head, “do you want to tell your parents?” she asked, gazing up at him.

Kit blinked, feigning a surprised look, “you haven’t? I thought you wouldn’t shut up about it just to get me into trouble,” he grinned, teasing her even if it pleased him that she respected him enough to wait for him to make that decision. She rolled her eyes even as her lips curved into a smile. Glancing down, Kit decided to give in to his impulse and pecked her on the lips swiftly before darting away, “breakfast’s ready!”

She shot him a reproachful look as they set the plates down.

“Oh thank you, Emilia,” his mother gushed as she gazed down at the sumptuous spread, “I hope Kit was a help in the kitchen instead of a hassle,” Emilia blushed furiously. Kit watched his mother catch on, realising she had teased Emilia without meaning to. _Dad did just catch us snogging in the kitchen instead of cooking._ His mother looked to be about to try to clear things up and Kit was about to jump in but Emilia surprised him.

“He’s great,” Emilia replied, “but I think I’ll put up a stair gate for the kitchen next time,”

To his surprise, laughter erupted from both his parents as they settled into their seats. Kit gazed at his parents laughing, not remembering the last time he saw them laughing this hard, “think we still have the old one in the attic, don’t we Deb?” his father asked in between his laughs. His mother was laughing too hard to reply with anything more than a nod.

He turned to Emilia to see her peering at the plates. She reached over the table and swapped his and his mum’s. Kit instantly pouted, “I want that one!” he pointed at his mother’s plate that used to be his.

She rolled her eyes, explaining to his mother instead, “I’ve made a healthier version of a fry-up for both of you,” _Dad has heart problems and mum’s cholesterol isn’t looking too good… I told her once in passing during filming and she remembers…_ Kit stared at her, stunned.

“Oh that’s so sweet, Emilia!” Deborah smiled, “isn’t that sweet, Dave?”

His father nodded, grinning up at Emilia, “you are a lifesaver. I haven’t had a full fry-up since the doctor told me my heart isn’t too well,” his eyes lit up visibly behind his glasses as he took in the spread before him.

“Well… it’s the first time I’ve tried to make the healthier version… so…” Emilia shrugged, “try it at your own risk,” his father chuckled, already reaching for the cutlery.

Kit watched them go back and forth, wondering how long has Emilia been here exactly; she was looking exceptionally comfortable with his parents and them her. They seemed to have already worked up their dynamics and he could not help but feel left out, even if somewhere in the back of his mind he felt incredibly chuffed they were getting on so well. Pouting, he tugged at Emilia’s sleeve. Or rather, the sleeve of _his_ jumper, “I want the special one,” he feigned his best whine, putting on his widest, wettest puppy dog eyes at her.

And Kit saw the exact moment her heart softened. He glimpsed her eyes glance between his eyes and down at his lips. Her brow twitched and raise slightly down the middle, “yours _is_ special, darling,” she flashed a sickeningly sweet smile at him before pinching his nose, hard.

“Ow!” he cried, holding his nose. She rolled her eyes, sinking into her chair.

His mother clucked her tongue in disapproval at Kit, “you have the patience of a saint, Emilia,” she flashed an apologetic look Emilia’s way.

Indignant, Kit snatched up her hand, trying to ignore how well her small hand fitted into the palm of his, “no, she has the patience of my girlfriend,” Kit grinned and raised their interlocked hands above the table.

Deborah paused, blinking. Then, slowly but surely, a wide grin spread across her face, “oh my goodness! Emilia?”

“I asked him,” Emilia grinned, looking overly proud.

“Kit!” Deborah scoffed, chiding. Kit rolled his eyes and turned to Emilia in a mock glare but before he can protest, his mother turned to her husband, excited, “oh David, isn’t this fantastic?”  

His father looked happy for them but entirely unsurprised, “you should have seen them kiss, Debby. I thought our son is going to tell us they are getting married soon,” Emilia blushed a deep red and Kit chuckled when his mother presumably kicked his father under the table. Hiding a wince, his father took another bite of his food, promptly silencing himself.

“I’m so happy for both of you,” his mother smiled kindly. Her eyes fell onto Emilia, “thank you for having our little Kit,”

Kit scowled, “hey!”

Emilia giggled, “no problem, someone has got to give you two a break,”

“Very altruistic, Emilia,” his father nodded sagely. Kit mocked a glare at Emilia but he could not maintain it upon seeing her cheeky grin, “Emilia, this is really amazing,” his father then said. His eyes were wide with surprise as he gazed down at the steamed bacon.

“Thank you,” Emilia smiled.

“I’ll need that recipe, Emilia,” Deborah turned to Emilia to smile at her but then her eyes glanced over Emilia’s face. A worried look fell over her eyes, “you look so tired, darling,” Deborah frowned, reaching across the table to cover Emilia’s free hand with hers and Kit watched as Emilia turned her hand over to hold his mother’s hand, “you are going straight to bed after breakfast,” Deborah said.

Kit chortled, “you’re getting sent to bed,”

Emilia rolled her eyes and Kit wanted to lean over to kiss her like he usually does to soften his teases. But before he could, his mother said sternly, “Kit, you will do the dishes after breakfast and that includes all the pans,”

Kit groaned, “oh no…”

It was Emilia’s turn to chuckle, “yes,” his mother fixed him with a meaningful look.

“Emilia needs me to cuddle with her to sleep,” Kit protested, “that’s probably why she looked tired. Couldn’t get a good night sleep without me,”

Emilia snorted loudly and instantly, she caught herself, looking self-conscious at having just done something incredibly unladylike in front of his parents. But his parents only chuckled, looking amused at their exchange.

 

* * *

 

Emilia tried to help with the dishes but was eventually sent out of the kitchen to rest while Kit and his mum washed and his dad cleared up the table.

“When did Emilia get here?” Kit asked as he soaped the dishes.

“Yesterday,” his mother replied. Kit nodded, absently wondering why Emilia did not tell him yesterday when he called her. Before he could ask his mother, she said, “you look very happy, Kit,”

At her solemn tone, Kit looked up to see his mother studying him with an attentiveness that only mothers have, “I am,” he replied.

“How were things with Rose?” his mother asked, “was the separation amicable?”

Kit bit the inside of his cheek. He did not want his mother to worry so he replied, “as amicable as separation goes,” his tone was tighter than he would have preferred and his mother detected it, the furrows between her brows deepening, “I think it’s harder on Emilia…” he admitted, “I just don’t want her to feel guilty or take the blame that is mine,” his mother placed a warm hand on his bare arm and squeezed him in comfort, “I should never have accepted Rose,” he dragged his gaze up to meet her eye.

“People are attracted to those who make them feel wanted, especially in a time when they feel most unwanted. It is completely normal,” his mother said firmly, always the voice of reason and not letting him sink into the habit of beating himself up in circles, “and people also make mistakes but I have always told you it is more important that you find it in yourself to forgive,”

Smiling appreciatively, Kit said, “I’m working on it,”

“Judging by how you two cannot keep your hands or gaze away from the other even over breakfast, I assume things are going well between you and Emilia?” his mother asked, a teasing lilt to her voice.

A smile automatically found its way onto Kit’s face, “yeah,” he bit his lips, already missing her lips, “we are slowly working a few things out; it’s never easy to have a relationship in this line of work… but I just… I feel like she knows me, sometimes better than I know myself. And that makes it so much easy. I feel safe when we are together, like I can be myself when I am with her,”  

“Oh Kit, that is so important and I am so happy for you,” his mother smiled, her eyes growing wet. Kit allowed her to pull him into a brief hug, “she is a very lovely girl, Kit; very thoughtful and kind and giving,”

“I know,” Kit smiled. _I’m the lucky one amongst us two... I really am._

“Good, so you treat her right, Kit,” his mother told him sternly.

His brows raised, “I thought you’re supposed to have this talk with Emilia,” Kit teased.

“I don’t have to tell to her. I know she treats you _too well_ ,” his mother chuckled, shaking her head.

Kit’s gaze softened as he watched the way his mum’s face light up as she talks about Emilia. _Mum’s fond of her and that is more than I can say for any of the girls I brought home before._ “I think she is the one, Mum,” Kit blurted before he can allow himself to think deeper and end up not telling his mother.

Deborah raised a brow. 

“I think I want to marry her,”

Deborah blinked and it was then that it occurred to Kit how sudden it sounded, considering they have just told his parents they just started dating officially, again, “please don’t tell me I am about to be a grandmother-“

Kit chortled, “no,” _not yet anyway,_ “I just… I can’t wait to be married to her. To have a place we can call our home. To fill that home with children of our own… I just can’t wait for all of that,” a laugh escaped him and his cheeks warmed that he had just admitted that to his mother. It didn’t feel too long ago when his dreams of the future consisted of being successful as an actor.

“That sounds lovely, Kit,” his mother said kindly.

“I…um… I don’t know how I should ask her though, nothing feels good enough…” Kit shifted on his feet and gazed down at the dishes instead, “but I know I want to ask her mother and her brother first… not this year perhaps, we are just going to tell them we are officially dating this New Year’s… but I know her family’s blessing would be incredibly important to her,” Kit sighed. For how eager he felt, it was disheartening to know he had to wait.

“One step at a time, Kit,” his mother told him, “I’m sure whatever you decide, Emilia will love because she loves you, very much if I may say so,”

“I know,” Kit smiled, not sure where the confidence in Emilia and in himself came from.

“That’s not what you would have said years ago,” his mother said knowingly and Kit vividly remembered the time when his mother told him Emilia loves him. That was a time when her love for him was unfathomable to him, “you both have grown, together. Even if you have been apart and that is a beautiful thing to have,” tears welled up in his eyes and Kit chuckled, sheepish for tearing. He tried to wipe at his eyes with his arm but his mother got to him first.

“She is so good to me, so good _for_ me. Sometimes, I get scared that she would leave again,” Kit said softly, feeling even the thought of that possibility wrench at his heart, “we’ve talked about this and I think I trust her but sometimes I just can’t believe this is real,”

His mother laughed lightly, “have faith in her, and in yourself, Kit. Love is mostly just you and your partner fumbling about together, trying to live the best possible life with each other,”

Kit chuckled, “that about sums it up,”

* * *

He returned to the sitting room to see his dad watching the telly from his usual armchair. It was unusually quiet and Kit scanned the sitting room to see Emilia sitting on the loveseat. She was curled up in the corner of it, her arm holding her head up. Kit smiled, approaching to see that she was asleep. Kit met his dad’s amused gaze before muffling a chuckle against his hand. Emilia would be so embarrassed if she knew she had just fallen asleep while watching telly with his dad.

His mother patted him on his arm, “bring her upstairs to get a proper nap. Poor thing barely caught a wink of sleep last night,”

Kit raised a brow, puzzled as he wondered what Emilia was up to last night. He knelt by the loveseat, peering at her sleeping face. With her head propped up on her arm, her cheek was squashed, making the natural pout of her plump lips even more prominent. She looked adorable. Resisting the urge to kiss her, he carefully snaked an arm under her neck, the other arm under her legs that were curled up against her chest. She stirred, her eyes fluttered open.

He gazed down at her as he heaved her up into his arms. Her small eyes peered up at him, “Kitten,” she whimpered tiredly.

“I’m going to bring you to bed,” he whispered, “go back to sleep, love,” she murmured an incoherent reply of agreement before nuzzling her face into his neck as he made his way to the stairs. Kit exchanged an amused gaze with his mother as they came to the second floor landing. His mother walked ahead quickly and opened the door to his childhood bedroom, “thanks mum,” Kit smiled. His mother shook it off dismissively as he gently lowered her to the bed. Then his mother left, closing the door behind her, before Kit could ask her why Emilia did not get much sleep the night before.

“Kitten,” she muttered, her eyes still closed, “Iwannacelebrateyourbirthday,”

Kit chuckled, “yes, darling, you can,” he tugged the duvet from under her, scooping her legs up to release the remaining duvet.

She hummed, sounding satisfied with his response before she rolled her over. Kit smiled, wondering if she was half-awake or talking in her sleep. He pulled the duvet over her, tucking it around her shoulders and underneath her chin. Gently, he released her hair from the elastic. As he shook out her curls, he grinned, losing the fight against the urge to lean down to smell her hair. He got a whiff of her soft scent, accompanied with the smell from cooking the fry-up and strangely, the mouth-watering smell of baking cookies.

She murmured incoherently and Kit leaned down to bury his nose into her hair, pressing a firm kiss to her scalp, “I love you,” he whispered. And she responded with the sound of her deep, even breaths that told him she was well and truly asleep. He shook with silent laughter as he curled up against her, tucking her head against the crook of his neck.

* * *

He woke groggily. To his dismay, when his arms combed the space beside him, he found nothing but warm sheets. Then, a jolt of unexpected pleasure made his body twitch and tugged him from sleep entirely. He gazed down, where the pleasure originated to see his fully erect length disappear inch by inch into the warm, moist depth of her mouth. His eyes widened and he moaned.

His eyes rolled to the back of his head as she guided him deeper, taking him into her narrow throat, “ _MILLY_ ,” he groaned to the ceiling, unable to register anything beyond her lips around his hard dick, her tongue teasing him, her throat contracting to milk him.

To his dismay, she withdrew entirely. Catching her breath, she hissed, “shhh, quiet, Kitten. Christ, your parents probably heard that one from downstairs!” she gritted her teeth, her cheeks pink.

Suddenly recalling that he was in his parents’ house, Kit bit his tongue. He glanced to the door before he hopped off the bed and waddled awkwardly to the door. Emilia hadn’t removed his pants and jeans completely but only undid his jeans in the front. Turning the lock to the door, Kit hurriedly went back to the bed, his hard length throbbing.

Emilia grinned, “take off your jeans and pants,” she told him.

“You too,” he could not contain his smirk as he hastily undressed, “take off your jumper too,” he urged as he peeled off his shirt. She did so and Kit eagerly drank in the sight of her, naked and glorious. Once she tossed his jumper to the corner of the bed, he climbed atop her and she rolled onto her back. He gazed down at her, taking in the winning smile on her lips and the way her rounded cheeks were flushed. He leaned down to kiss her. Her hands explored his body so gently he sighed happily upon her lips, “mmmm, did you sleep well?”

She smiled, “very well. You wouldn’t find my mouth around your dick otherwise,”

He laughed. Ducking his head, he took a pert nipple in his mouth, teasing it with his tongue and lips till it grew hard before he proceeded to the next. She squirmed under him, panting heavily but not making a sound. He glanced up at her to see her biting her lip. Her face contorted from the agony of trying to stay quiet. He grabbed his throbbing length then, rubbing it along her sopping slit to lubricate himself thoroughly.

“ _Kitten,_ ” she whined, her hips wiggling impatiently.

He grinned, letting his dick go. He gently pushed into her, watching the head of him part her folds from the base to the sensitive bundle of nerves at the peak. He groaned softly at the giddying sensation of her along his shaft; so soft, warm and so, so wet.

“I hate you,” she hissed as her legs wrapped themselves around his hips. He yelped, surprised when her legs tightened around him to pull him to her. He fell forward, barely able to catch himself from falling onto her. She sighed softly, her body squirming beneath his. It took Kit a moment to feel her grinding her mound onto his pubic bone, pleasuring herself and smearing her juices over him.

“You are so fucking hot,” he growled, feeling his hard-on twitch as she dripped over his shaft copiously. She whimpered once more and Kit met her wide, pleading gaze that tugged at his heartstrings. It was then he realised his endeavour to tease her had been fruitless from the beginning. He reached between them as she did and she shoved his hand away, probably assuming he wanted to tease her further. She took him in hand, giving him a hard squeeze before she positioned him right at her entrance. Without preamble, her legs tightened around him again, guiding him into her.

He bit back a loud groan as his swollen tip parted her to bury itself into her sopping velvet channel, “ _fuck,_ ” she whispered. He lowered himself deeper into her. She felt so warm and tight. He hurriedly muffled his unwitting groan against her sweet mouth. The moan reverberating from her throat into his mouth made a shiver of pleasure race down his spine and he throbbed, his balls tightening. He gazed down to where they joined to see the sheen of her arousal on the base of his length and his swollen balls were pulled tight against his base, already ready to spill.

“Milly, I can’t be quiet,” he whimpered against her lips, “you feel so fucking tight. Oh _fuck_ ,” he stuttered out a groan as she adjusted to him, her channel squeezing his shaft tentatively.

She sighed, pressing her lips to his in response. He kissed her ardently. When he was sure he could be quiet, at least with his lips pressed so firmly to hers like this, he pulled back to thrust back into her firmly.

A loud creak filled the room.

She tensed under him, freezing; as did he. His eyes darted open to see her eyes opening.

Tentatively, he thrusted again.

Another creak, louder now, sounded from the bed beneath them.

Her raucous giggle startled him. He pulled back to gaze at her. He watched her giggle uncontrollably, a smile teasing the edges of his lips to see her so happy. She wrapped her arms around her belly. Every time her laughter quelled, she would take one look at him before a fresh wave of amusement made her collapse into uncontrollable giggles again. He chuckled, pressing a kiss to her smiling lips.

When her legs withdrew from around him and she turned away from him so he slipped out of her, the humour of the situation was entirely lost on Kit. He opened his mouth to protest but Emilia was laughing so hard he doubted she would hear him, “Milly,” he whined and as he thought, she did not hear him as she crawled away from under him in an attempt to stop laughing. He crawled after her, grabbing her by her hips to drag her back under him.

“N-n-no, I can’t-“ she giggled, tears gathering at the corner of her eyes. Kit fought a smile as he pressed his lips to hers but she craned her neck and turned away so his lips landed on her collarbone, “I-I-I c-can’t l-look a-a-at you,” she managed through her giggles.

Kit laughed, wrapping his arms around her to keep her with him as he buried his flushed face into her neck, “very funny,”

“It is,” she chortled, “oh Christ,”

As her laughter begin to die down, Kit thrusted mockingly against her, trying and failing to ignore the brush of her wet slit against his, still hard, dick. The fucking bed creaked again and she collapsed in another round of giggles. He laughed softly as he kissed her bare shoulder before he rolled over to collapse in the space beside her. The bed creaked in protest even as he collapsed onto it and Emilia giggled even louder.

Kit glanced to her, amused at how tickled she was before he settled onto his side to watch her. He pulled her, laughing, to him and chuckled when he felt her body shaking in mirth. _She’s absolutely wonderful._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I'm back! Sorry for the long wait. I'm in the middle of a serious writer's block. I got bored with what I am writing and the words weren't coming out right for some reason. I am in the midst of planning the future for this story and have the next huge plot line planned out. If this chapter seemed off, I apologise but I decided to post in an attempt to move on from the writer's block and I did not want to keep you guys waiting any longer! 
> 
> Many many thanks to those who left me encouraging messages last chapter! They really kept me going :) 
> 
> I would love to hear what you guys thought of this chapter and if you thought anything was different/ missing, do let me know!   
> Also, question: would you guys like to read more about Emilia's interaction with Kit's family or Kit's interaction with Emilia's family? Or both?? Would really appreciate some input so let me know! If you want either or both, do also let me know if you have any specific interaction you want to read about!


	19. Present

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As for “Me Before You”, Clarke believes she gravitated toward the project because deep down she’s a hopeless romantic. “As much as I would like to hide it,” she says. “I mean, what am I hiding it under? Absolutely nothing! I think I hide it and everyone’s like ‘No, Emilia, it’s pretty obvious,” 
> 
> \- Emilia Clarke (latimes, June 2016)
> 
> My birthday is the day after Christmas. So it’s always the same. My whole family just descends on my birthday and I get no attention. I like attention. So I always end up getting really grumpy and selfish on my birthday. It’s always the same; I go to my local pub. And it’s a great way I’m always at home back at where my parents live where I grew up. It’s a great way of getting all my friends together(…) I love having a birthday on Boxing Day. I just don’t get enough attention. But then I never get enough attention, just generally. 
> 
> \- Kit Harington (W magazine, 2016)

_December 2016, Worcestershire, England_

**Emilia**

“What are you doing?” Kit grumbled. She giggled, amused at the way he was walking with his knees bent to accommodate her height as she covered his eyes with her hands. She had basically locked him in his room after they returned from lunch, with orders not to leave the room until she came to get him. When she returned, she was incredibly amused to see him fast asleep. When she woke him, he had grown grumpy, emerging from his room as such.

She shushed his questions as gently as she can and glimpsed him pout. He was visibly not pleased and kind of irritated. Emilia supposed she could not blame him for she, too, did not like being kept in the dark. However, when they descended the staircase to the small crowd of people gathered in the sitting room, Emilia knew he would love it the moment he saw it.

The group of people she gathered were mainly his friends he went to school with in Worcester, a handful of his best mates from different point of his life, his closest cousins, his parents and his brother, Jack. She met Jack’s eye from over the crowd and she smiled at him in thanks. She had depended on him to gather his and Kit’s childhood friends and she wasn’t disappointed with the turnout.

They were gathered around a huge cake with mountains of tubs of cookies around it. At the corner of the table, there was a small pile of wrapped gifts. Emilia had sheepishly requested for all those invited to get Kit a gift; no matter the cost, it was the thought that counts and, Emilia knew, what Kit would cherish the most. They all stood in hushed silence, most of them grinning when they saw him.

It was evident, from the lack of cameras but for Deborah’s, that Jack has been a great help to ensure that their guests knew of the no-camera policy. Emilia had reluctantly told Jack to convey that to the guests he invited.

“Milly,” Kit sighed as they came to the last step at the foot of the staircase, “what the fuck is going on?” she could feel him roll his eyes underneath her hand.

A snigger.

“What was that?” Kit tried to duck his head to look but Emilia firmly pressed her hand over his eyes.

“No peeking!” Emilia cried anxiously.

Kit snorted, “fine,” he huffed and Emilia hurriedly positioned him in the middle of the room, facing all the people he held dear.

She got on her tiptoes then, “you ready?” she whispered, grinning and barely able to contain her excitement to see his face.

She glimpsed him smirk and before she could stop him, he said, “only if you’re naked,” she startled when his hand fell to her bottom and Kit groaned in audible disappointment when he felt her fabric clad bum.

Her cheeks flushed a deep red and many people in the crowd in front of them were covering their mouths to muffle their laughter. Emilia dared to glance over to Deborah to see her face buried in her free hand. David just looked incredibly amused as he stared at his son. Deciding that the best retort to that would be to let him see who was in front of him, Emilia dropped her hand.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY KIT!” the crowd cheered but most of them burst out into wild laughter.

Kit was wide-eyed as he stared at them. His eyes seemed to register the faces and his face turned beet red. He ducked his eyes then to look sideways at her, a mixture of deep embarrassment and disbelief on his face. She chuckled, sure her face was as red if not redder than his. She cupped his bearded cheek and gazing into his eyes, she said, just loud enough for him to hear above the noise, “happy birthday, Kitten,”

The crowd began to sing the birthday song to him and Kit’s lips parted a few times but no audible words came out. He glanced over the crowd once before he turned back to her, staring. Sometime in the middle of the song, she made to lower her hand but Kit’s hand came up to hold her hand to his cheek; his brows raising just slightly. His eyes, where the look of disbelief was still etched, searched her face as if he needed convincing that all this is real. As the song came to an end, his eyes welled up with tears.

She chuckled, “time to blow out your candles,” she said gently.

“What are you Kit, four?” someone who sounded like Jack shouted.

Kit ignored him, his gaze unmoving from her. It was beginning to get awkward when Kit licked his lips and croaked out, still looking confused, “it’s… not my birthday,”

She blinked. The crowd roared with laughter and Emilia giggled, “no, we’re celebrating in advance, silly,” she cupped his precious, puzzled, face in her hands, “we wouldn’t want your birthday to fall on Boxing Day again, do we?” she grinned.

Finally, realisation dawned upon Kit and he laughed. At her gentle nudge of his jaw, he turned to the large cake in front of him. She gazed anxiously upon his face, wondering what he was thinking of the ugly, overly loopy script on the cake that says ‘Happy Birthday Kit’ and the uneven icing. The cake was also disproportionately large. The cookies were of different sizes and she could not find a pretty enough jar to keep them in the end.

But all of it has her heart.

And Emilia only wished he liked it; even a little.

She watched Kit smile. A polite façade, she was sure, for all the eyes on him that were awaiting his reaction.

“Make a wish,” Deborah reminded.

Kit looked up from gazing at the set-up to meet his mother’s eye. He smiled at his mother before he looked down, squeezing his eyes shut. Emilia gazed at him make his wish, wondering what he was wishing for. She jumped when he took her hand in his in that tender but firm way only he can manage to. She didn’t allow herself to look down at their hands and tried to fight a smile when Kit’s fingers slowly but surely laced with hers.

His eyes opened slowly when he was done. His eyes darted towards her but he never looked. Then he blew the candles out with a huge grin plastered on his face.

* * *

Emilia smiled at one of Kit’s mates as she wedged past him to get into the kitchen. They were running out of serviettes. Last she saw him, Kit was receiving a warm group hug from a group of his friends. She had chuckled at the way they towered over him, threatening to completely suffocate him in a hug, before she turned to fetch more serviettes.

It was when she was standing in the middle of the kitchen, did Emilia realise that she had no idea where Deborah kept the serviettes or if she had any extra. Rolling her eyes at her own stupidity, Emilia made to turn to head out of the kitchen to ask Deborah. Then she saw Jack standing at the door of the kitchen.

“ **Looking for something**?” she asked Jack the same time he asked her.

She paused as did he. They shared a quiet laugh, “some serviettes,” Emilia replied. Jack lifted his hand to show her the stray cream that caught on his palm. She chuckled.

“I have no idea where mum keeps them,” Jack said sheepishly before he headed to the sink to wash off.

“It’s her territory,” Emilia grinned.

Jack chuckled, nodding in agreement, “but she lets you in. That cake is fucking delicious by the way. Over the years, we have exhausted pretty much all of the bakery in Worcestershire…Where did you get it?”

The compliment made Emilia blush but she wished it came from somebody else, like Jack’s brother, “I didn’t. I baked it,”

“That’s some mean baking skills,” Jack raised his brows, “and those cookies…” his voice trailed off before he grinned, “it’s the same one from the first time you came to celebrate Kit’s birthday with him here, isn’t it?”

Emilia grinned, nodding, “kind of. The cake is slightly different but I heard Kit’s whinging about the disappearance of his cookies…so here they are again,” Jack laughed, “let’s save around a jar for Kit this time,”

“No promises,” Jack shrugged, “besides, knowing little Kit, after he has seen how many jars of cookies there are, he’ll probably be upset if even one of it goes missing,”

Emilia giggled, missing him already but as much as she want to be speaking with him right now, she wanted him to have some time to catch up with his mates first. She knew he rarely gets to see them as it is all the other times of the year. _We’ll have all night…_ she felt her cheeks begin to warm at the thought of her present for him.

“He’s happy,” Jack said, “I haven’t seen him this happy for his birthday since I can’t even remember,”

Emilia giggled, “well… someone had to move his birthday for him to get the attention he so longed for,”

Jack chuckled, “that’s clever. Did you see his face when he saw the cake and just could not comprehend what the fuck is going on?”

She nodded, laughing. She had loved how surprised he was, “thank you so much, Jack. For organising all of it when I couldn’t,”

Jack waved it off dismissively, “nah, I didn’t do a thing but sent a text or two. It’s all your idea,”

“But I needed your help or the sitting room will probably be filled with you, your mum and your dad,” Emilia pointed out.

Jack smiled, “you’re very welcome, for helping you make my little brother the happiest little boy in this country today,” Emilia giggled, recalling the constant smile on his face since he blew out the candle, “you’re all he talks about, y’know,”

She raised a brow, “what do you mean?” surprised that he dared to talk about her with his mates.

“Since he got to know you,” Jack smiled, “the first Christmas he returned home; from filming the first season. I don’t think a day went by that he didn’t mention you, directly or indirectly. And even after when you two weren’t-“ Jack paused and Emilia appreciated it but nodded for him to continue, “he just couldn’t shut up about you. I knew then…Best friend or girlfriend, he’s going to be with you or end up dying alone, whether he knows it or not,”

Laughing, Emilia shook her head, “he won’t ever die alone. I’ll probably annoy him to his grave, and then some,”

“Exactly,” Jack nodded, “and the sickening part is, I think Kit wouldn’t want it any other way,” Emilia blushed, “that masochist. And I heard from my mum,” Jack smiled, gesturing to her, “girlfriend,”

She nodded, “girlfriend,” she could not hide the wide smile.

“For the record, I told him he wouldn’t get you. Not again anyhow,” Jack huffed, “I mean you’re gorgeous and he is... average,”

She gaped in disbelief, “Jack! You didn’t!” her heart went out to Kit. She knew what a sensitive soul her Kitten was, even if he tried to act like he didn’t care. And for him to have heard something so close to the truth of how he felt, Emilia knew it must have hurt him.

Jack shrugged, nodding, “I did. Why did you think he couldn’t let you go? Little Kit has always been a fighter of sorts. Especially against his older brother. The more I told him he couldn’t do something, the harder he will try just to spite me and prove me wrong” Jack chuckled and it was then, that Emilia felt, his love for his little brother really shone through his eyes, “so after a while, I got into the habit of telling him the exact opposite of what I think would be good for him. But of course, trying to let you go… to _really_ let you go, was a little beyond what little Kit can do,” behind the tough, elder brother exterior, Emilia could sense that Jack felt some of the sadness that Kit had felt.

“It’s beyond what I can do as well. That’s why I’m the one who asked him,” Emilia admitted shyly.

Jack gaped, “why did you do that?” he laughed nervously, “he’s not going to shut up about it! He’s going to tell your great great great grandchildren about it! It’ll be the last story he tells on his deathbed. Thank god we have already established that I will die before he does, or I’ll be listening to that even when my hearing has gone,”

Emilia giggled loudly, “I’ll figure something out to shut him up,”

Jack grinned, “you’re a nice lass, Emilia,” Emilia fought a blush and put on a proud grin, “Kit is really _really_ lucky to have you,”

Raising her brows, Emilia lifted both hands, palms up, “fuck yeah,”

Jack laughed, “oh god, save me. My little brother has actually gone and found someone somewhat like him to recruit into the family,” Emilia chuckled, feeling her middle warm at the acceptance she felt in Jack’s words. Jack opened his arms then and Emilia hesitated momentarily before she stepped closer, accepting his warm hug.

_So this is what Kit has all his life._

Jack said softly, “I’ve never had a little sister but please don’t turn out to be a pain in my arse like little Kit,”

Emilia giggled, “I’ll try not to,” Jack laughed.  

_And it’s beautiful._

* * *

By the time the last of their guest left, Kit was still grinning from ear to ear and Emilia relished the sight of his joy. She watched him catch his brother’s eye before he took off, on his brother’s heel. Jack laughed as he leaped over the couch to hide. Kit rounded the couch and wrestled Jack on it. Emilia watched, amused but confused, and a little worried with how rough they were being.  

Until, Kit pried a jar of cookies from Jack’s arm.

“Thief!” Kit accused. His curls are in a mess. He clutched the jar to his chest possessively.

Jack rolled his eyes, “selfish idiot,”

“Jack,” Deborah emerged from the dining, “mind your language,” Kit stuck his tongue out at his brother and Deborah turned to Emilia, sighing, “sometimes… I think my sons never grew up,”

Emilia laughed, “that’s not really a bad thing. They’d come home,”

Deborah chuckled, nodding in agreement, “for the food, maybe,”

Kit turned to her and she met his eye. He smiled at her, raising the jar above his head in triumph, “I got it back,” he grinned as if he won something.

Emilia rolled her eyes, “that’s one, Kitten. You have like twenty,” she pointed to the table where the cake was reduced to about two slices and the cookies were largely untouched. Kit pouted as he walked over to her. Cradling the cookie jar to his chest, he wrapped his other arm around her shoulder and pulled her to his side.

“You baked it, didn’t you?” Kit ducked his head to meet her eye as he asked.

She bit her lip, “how did you know?” _the shape is disgusting-_

“I just know,” Kit assured, leaning down to press his forehead to hers. He smiled warmly and Emilia nuzzled closer.

“Piss off, mum told you!” Jack shouted. Kit scowled at Jack, his eyes twinkling with joy even as his lips parted to shout back at Jack. Kit looked incredibly young then and Emilia giggled, thumbing his beard fondly. His gaze fell to her and he grinned.

“The cake is divine,” Kit sighed, “and the cookies… I’ll sleep with all of them tonight,”

She huffed, “don’t you dare bring them to bed!”

Kit pouted but sighed in resignation. She admired his heart-shaped lips that were even more pronounced when pouted. Before she could even register, those lovely lips came closer and eventually brushed her lips, painfully tender. He left a chaste but lingering kiss upon her lips before he whispered, “thank you,” his lips curved into a smile against hers.

Those words were simple but falling from those very lips, they meant the world to her. Her heart skipped a beat and Emilia knew she would bake a hundred more jars of cookies to live in this moment again.

He pressed his forehead to hers and gazed at her, “no wonder you were knackered. I heard you stayed up all night to bake these,” a deep furrow formed between his brows.

She glanced between his eyes, “and I would do it again,”

Kit closed his eyes, his expression pained. He took her hand in his and brought it up to press a kiss to the back of her fingers, “I would grow so fat from those cookies,” his eyes opened, wetter than they were.

She chuckled, “so share it with your family,”

His gaze hardened. Kit pouted, “no,”

“Kitten,” she warned.

He studied her stern gaze before his eyes glanced to the side in unease, “fine,” he shrugged, “they get this jar,” he glanced down to the half-eaten one in his hand, feigning petulance. Her stern façade cracked at the sight of his reluctant and grumpy demeanour as he relented and she giggled, cupping his face in her hands and pressing a kiss to his bearded jaw in praise. His chuckle made her stomach clench. Kit grinned, “I’ll give them two more jars!” he announced, pointing to his lips.

She laughed. She glanced down to his puckered, smiling lips, tempted to kiss him but she was also very aware of the fact that they were standing in the middle of the sitting room; in plain sight of his parents and his brother. Kit pouted.

“Um… I’ll give them three more! One new one for each of them!” Kit whined, looking to be on the verge of stomping his foot.

Her heart rent as his wide, rounded chocolate brown eyes gazed beseechingly at her, a raven curl flopping down into his face. His plump, heart shape lips pouted underneath his moustache. In those brown eyes, she could almost see herself; loved, precious, and so special. And in that moment, Emilia realised she wanted to be someone who deserved all of those things; to be good. Smiling, she brushed aside the lovely curl. Cupping his cheeks so very tenderly, she got on her tip toes to press a soft, chaste kiss to his lips.

He met her halfway, kissing her gently. Feeling her cheeks warm, she made to pull away but Kit’s arm rounded her waist and he leaned into her lips as she withdrew. She chuckled, “Kit-“ he melded their lips together in a renewed wave of passion rather abruptly. She melted against him then, no matter how unwilling or shy she felt. Everything about him felt good; his strong, firm arm around her waist, his lips against hers, his beard tickling her chin and cheek, his solid chest on which she leaned.

A throat cleared meaningfully.

Emilia pulled away firmly, her cheeks incredibly hot. Jack stared at them, rolling his eyes, “what’s wrong with your room, Kit?”

Glancing around to see that his parents were nowhere to be seen, Kit hissed, “the fucking bed creaks!”

If possible, her cheeks burned even more as Jack laughed, “so _that_ was what I heard! I thought that damn attic is finally collapsing on us,”

“Fuck you,” Kit scowled.

Jack howled with laughter as he ducked away.

They spent the rest of the afternoon opening his presents simply because Kit could not wait any longer. As he opened his last one, beaming, he gazed at her, “this is the best birthday I have had since the one I had in primary school,” he took her hand from her lap and squeezed her hand.

Her heart swelled and Emilia held his large hand in both of hers. Bringing it up to her lips, she pressed a kiss to his knuckles. His hand turned in hers to cradle her jaw. His fingers, although meaty, were incredibly gentle and Emilia relished every moment she had under his touch, “you poor thing,” Emilia giggled.

Kit pouted sadly, “yeah…don’t you want to kiss me better?”

She laughed, “you have had plenty of kisses already!” and it was true, Kit had at least a kiss for each of the present he opened.

Emilia gazed around them, taking in all the presents that littered the floor around them. Kit’s neighbours and friends have been incredibly kind, getting him so many presents that if someone walked in on them, they might think Christmas came early. Once in a while, Deborah would peer over the edge of the couch, where they were sitting behind, to check in on their progress.

“That is too many presents for one person,” Deborah commented, “oh Emilia, you’re spoiling Kit,”  

“No,” Kit disagreed instantly, reaching to pop a cookie in his mouth with his free hand. He grinned up at his mum who pursed her lips against a smile, shaking her head before she turned to continue watching the tv.

“Are you ready for your last present?” Emilia asked him.

Kit turned to her, surprised, “there’s one more?”

She nodded, “we’re going for a stay at the local hotel,” she watched Kit’s surprise turn to pure joy that had him bark a laugh before pulling her to him in a suffocating hug.

 

**Kit**

“I love you,” Kit said as they hopped into a cab. Deborah had all but shooed them out of the house with Jack commenting that they would all go crazy from their public display of affection if the two of them did not leave the house. Kit had repaid Jack’s effort with a subtle but rude finger gesture behind his mother’s back, “if you didn’t book the hotel, I was this close to buying a new fucking bed,”

She giggled, “all part of the plan, Kitten,”

He narrowed his eyes as he studied her smug smile, “bollocks,” he said, convinced that this last present had at least some elements of her own needs.

“No, really. This is all part of my grand plan for your 30th birthday,” she sang, looking much too happy that he was, too, thirty soon.

He raised a brow, “this is not because of my fucked up bed?”

“No, not really,” a pause as he fixed her with a penetrating stare, “well, kind of,” a pause, “I did push forward the reservation and the small party,”

Kit laughed, “I’m so fucking glad you did anyhow,” he grabbed her hand to press a kiss to it. She giggled, shaking her head. They have tried to make love in other positions that excluded that offending bed, but they couldn’t be quiet enough and Emilia would get too self-conscious then, insisting they stopped. _A man could only live on fingering his girlfriend and getting off from her hand and in her mouth for so long._ He had bit his lips so hard once when he came in her mouth that he split his lip and it had bled.

They arrived at the hotel and alighted to check-in. The hotel wasn’t particularly luxurious and Kit knew Emilia chose this hotel intentionally to lay low under the radar of fans or paparazzi. He didn’t care anyhow, she was all he wanted tonight.

Emilia had thoroughly spoiled him by organising another day for his birthday. But what touched Kit the most was the thought that evidently went into everything he had at the party. Everything that he wanted was there; the cake that he knew she baked, the cookies he recognised from years back that he loved, the presents that always doubled up as Christmas presents but Kit wished did not, the people he got to know in Worcester and missed deeply after moving to London and his amazing family. It took a special person to know exactly what he would like and arrange it all for him.

Kit was in disbelief, all through the party, that this special person was his to call his girlfriend. Whenever he was asked about his relationship with Emilia during the party, Kit could only gaze at her from afar longingly, smile bashfully and dismiss the question. But inwardly, he wanted to take her hand and pull her to his side and show every single person, who he knew and loved, how wonderful she is. He wanted to show them how happy she always makes him.

For now, Kit knew letting his family know her would have to do. And every time he saw his mother, father or his brother at ease and chatting with Emilia, his heart would do curious backflips.

Kit could not begin to fathom how lucky he was that all his loved ones got on but he knew all this was not merely luck. Most of it was Emilia. She was good with people and incredibly kind. And Kit felt too fortunate to have her. And so, Kit was determined to show her just how grateful he feels; by giving her the most amazing orgasm she has had to date.

 _The bed can snap for all I care._ He let his eyes roam her body as she leaned against the counter, waiting for the staff to check them in. He eyed her heavy breasts, her small waist and followed the curve of it to the flare of her ample hips. Staring at her bottom, he longed to grab a handful of her to squeeze if nothing but to witness her reaction on her lovely face. He felt the familiar sensation of his jeans becoming much too small the longer he gazed at her.

The moment she entered the room, Kit wrestled her against a wall, kissing her fiercely. He tossed aside both their overnight bags and his hands flew over their bodies with the sole aim to undo any buttons or zippers. As he pulled aside his own shirt, to his disbelief and sheer puzzlement, she withdrew from him, “Kitten,” she caught her breath, holding him back with a gentle hand on his bare chest. But the gesture itself stung, even if a little, “wait,”

“Why?” he shot her an accusing look. He knew he was being ridiculous because they have all night but he did not want to wait anymore. For what he had in mind for her, he would probably need all night.

“I did say this is for your birthday,” Emilia sighed, “surely you didn’t think I would just book a random hotel for a night of fucking for your thirtieth?”

He blinked, “why not? Sounds perfect,” he shrugged.

She huffed, looking amused, “blokes,” she rolled her eyes, “just wait,” a smirk curved into her lips, “it gets better than that,”

“Nothing can be better than me fucking you against this dodgy wall, right now,” he snapped.

Emilia glanced back to the faded wallpaper and laughed. The sight of her laughing made Kit chuckle. She stepped closer to him, letting her breasts brush his bare chest, stealing his next breath. Cupping his cheek, she said, her voice alluring, “sit on the bed and wait for me,”

Kit stared at her as she turned from him, grabbed her overnight bag and headed to the loo. His mind raced for all the possibilities of her bringing her overnight bag into the loo. She was probably going to change but in Kit’s mind, nothing she could wear would beat her wearing absolutely nothing, “should I get myself hard for you?” he asked.

Giggling, she winked back at him, “just think of me,”

“All the fucking time,” he shot back hotly.

She laughed before disappearing into the loo. He watched her close the door and heard the lock click, sullenly. He resigned himself on waiting for her to emerge. Sighing, he sat on the bed and collapsed flat onto his back, wallowing in self-pity as he silently hoped she would emerge from the loo completely naked. He thought of taking off his jeans and pants but at the thought of Emilia removing it for him, all while taking him into her mouth, he kept it on. His hand wandered to his groin and he groaned softly as he stroked himself through the denim. He closed his eyes and pictured her rounded arse, her pert breasts, her naughty smirk, her moist engorged slit, gleaming at him as if daring him to take her.

He grew harder in his jeans and he was so tempted to remove it so he could properly stroke himself as he imagined how it felt to bury himself inside of her. Just as his jeans begun to feel so tight it was almost painful, the door to the loo clicked soundly. He heave a happy sigh that his wait was finally over. He sat up eagerly.

His eyes widened and he had completely forgotten to breathe.

She wasn’t naked.

But it was even better than naked.

She was clad in a black lacy body-suit. The top half of it was basically two sheer, lacy fabric barely concealing her breasts from him, held up by a thin string around her neck. It was connected by two thin strings to the triangular piece of lace over her mound. Her pale smooth skin was practically glowing, a stark contrast to the black suit. She looked magnificent and Kit swallowed to find his mouth completely dry and a lump that felt like his tongue had wedged itself into his throat.

When he managed to force his gaze up to her face, he almost whimpered. She looked so gorgeous. There didn’t seem to be even the slightest bit of makeup on her face save a lip gloss that gave her plump, desirable lips a tempting sheen. Her brunette hair was loose around her bare shoulders. When he met her eyes, she smiled at him and Kit could not help but smile back. She bit her lower lip as she made her way over to him and Kit could not stop staring at the way her hips swayed as she walked.

She stopped before him, seemingly waiting for him to say something. When he managed to tear his gaze from her lace-clad breasts, that the small fabric could barely conceal the shape of, Kit licked his lips, not trusting himself to be able to speak, “you hid in the loo just to get dressed up in this?” he croaked.

“It’s rude to leave a birthday present unwrapped,” she replied smoothly and Kit gaped up at her. She giggled as she tentatively wedged herself between his legs. She sat down on his thigh that felt curiously weak, and Kit felt faint from all the blood that left his head in favour of his throbbing dick. It felt so hard in his pants it was starting to ache, “you like?” she whispered, nuzzling her nose to his bearded cheek.

His hand came up a moment too late to rest habitually on her back. He froze when he felt warm, bare skin that felt so soft and smooth beneath his hand. He chuckled weakly, nodding, “I love it. I love you,” his voice came out as an embarrassing croak as he glanced over his ‘present’.

Raising a trembling hand from his side, he caressed the bare skin of her thigh, “good,” she grinned, lighting up her gorgeous face. Kit mirrored her grin as he leaned closer, wanting to taste her lips. She leaned back just so, “before we get carried away,” she whispered, “I think I should let you know that you can do whatever you want with your birthday present,” Kit almost choked on his breath in his excitement, “but,” he raised a brow, hesitant, “you have to use this,”

He turned to see what she has in her hand and stared.

He had no idea when she picked up the offending item but he wouldn’t be surprised if she had it since she emerged from the loo and he hadn’t noticed. He hadn’t really been looking anywhere else but at what she was wearing.

“Is that…” he gaped. His mind was running a mile a minute as he entertained all the possibilities with that new item.

“A butt plug, yes,”

He was giddy now, barely able to contain his excitement. In his pants, he felt a strong enthusiastic twitch. His gaze slowly shifted to Emilia to see her looking mildly amused. Then he turned back to the item, not daring to believe what she was saying, “y-you sure?” with this, they were going into entirely new territory but Kit was thrilled.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” a small smile curved into her lips, “it’s you who should be second thoughts,” he glanced once more at her mildly amused expression. She did not look the least bit hesitant and that gave Kit pause.

Realisation dawned on Kit then, “wait…this butt plug is meant for who again?”

“You,” she replied flatly as if she had already made it clear prior, “it’s not strictly speaking a butt plug… I would say more of a prostate massager of sorts…at least that’s what it says on the manual,” her voice trailed off towards the end as her eyes darted between his eyes, seemingly evaluating his reaction.

Kit paled. His length begin to soften and shrink in his pants, shrivelling up in trepidation for what she was suggesting. His arse clenched, already resisting the idea of it, “what?” Kit blinked, wanting to confirm if he heard her right. He didn’t consider himself a prude man and often prided himself on being spontaneous and adventurous, especially in bed. But evidently not. 

Emilia lowered her eyes and bit her lips. She wrapped her arms around his neck. He glanced down to her plump, glossy lips that looked incredibly palatable to him. He longed to release her lip from her teeth. She leaned closer and her lace-clad breasts brushed his bare chest. He could feel her stiff nipple. His breath hitched audibly and Kit was mesmerized, “I read that it feels really good,” she said softly, finally some hesitation in her voice, “and I thought maybe you’d want to try it. I don’t want you getting bored with me-“

“Fuck no,” Kit replied instantly. _How can I get bored with you?_ His eyes roamed hungrily across her body, tempting him since before he saw her. Tired of fighting the urge any longer, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her onto the middle of the bed, lowering himself heavily over her to stop her escape.

Her giggles filled the air, “no-“ he ignored her and snatched her lips up in a fierce kiss. He smiled when he felt her kiss him back, equal parts tender as she is passionate.

Her kiss made his heart fluttered in his chest and his toes curl with longing. Cradling her to him so they were chest to chest, Kit reluctantly withdrew to look down at her. Her brunette hair was fanned around her head, her luscious lips were parted, her blue-gold eyes were bright and tender as they gazed up at him. Her eyes were so full of love that Kit felt he could drown in it. _So beautiful…_ He had to remind himself to take a breath.

Then he felt a hard pointed tip prod his arse crack through his jeans. He yelped, jerking away. Emilia giggled loudly, “come on, give it a try. It may surprise you,” she grinned, bringing the offending item into his line of sight. Kit flinched from it, “if you don’t like it after you have tried, we can forget about it,”

He glanced reluctantly to it. It looked so huge, Kit could not imagine how fitting that where it should go would not hurt him but bring him pleasure. Then he glanced down to her; soft, warm and pliant to do anything to fulfil his wants. Her lovely eyes were large, imploring him to at least try it. And that was the exact moment he started to relent. _How could anything I do with you be remotely miserable?_ “And we do this the old way,”

She smiled, “yes, if you’ve tried and you don’t like it, we will do this the old way,” she leaned up, kissing him chastely on the lips. When she withdrew, there was a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, “Kitten, don’t you remember? I told you I would get you a butt plug eventually,”

_“You fart in your sleep, Kit,” she told him._

_He stared blankly at her._ No I don’t. She’s just teasing-

_Emilia looked solemnly up at him, “you really do, Kitten,” she pursed her lips against a smile._

_But despite that, Kit could see she wasn’t lying. She was merely amused this was evidently news to him. It was now his turn to avert her gaze, shift uncomfortably and his cheeks heated._ Fuck. Truth.

_As if she could read his mind, he glimpsed Emilia nod from the corner of his eye, “yep, and that’s the fucking truth,” she giggled. He furrowed his brows, thoroughly embarrassed. Then he felt her small hands on his cheek, her thumb scuffing his prickly beard tenderly. He tentatively looked to her. Her eyes were soft as they gazed up at him, “I’m still here,” she smiled, “mostly because you have me pinned but you get what I mean,” she teased._

_He felt a tension he hasn’t realise he had, leave him and the breath he has been holding was released._

_“I should get you a butt plug,” Emilia giggled._

_Kit raised his brows, “I’m sure that’s not what they’re used for,” he told her deadpanned and looking unamused. But watching her giggle uncontrollably under him, Kit was having a hard time suppressing a smile._

Kit did remember, all too well. He rolled his eyes, whining, “I promise not to fart in my sleep anymore,”

Emilia giggled, scoffing, “like that would ever happen,” with her free hand, she grabbed his arse cheek, giving him a good squeeze, “I _love_ your bottom. Oh Christ,” she muttered as she felt him up thoroughly.

He laughed, lowering to nuzzle his nose against hers. A warm, fuzzy feeling nestled deep in his chest. He gently placed his hand upon her rib, caressing her breast through the lace. She hummed, a smile on her lips. He gazed down at what she had on, trying to catch a glimpse of her hard nipple that he could feel. Gazing down at the black strings that led south, he followed it, caressing her along the curve of her waist, revelling the feel of her warm smooth skin as he came to her hips. He took the string of the knot from her hip and felt it. He knew a tug on it would loosen the knot and reveal her in all of her gorgeous nakedness to him.  

But Kit loved the lingerie too much. Seeing her in it thrilled him to no end and Kit wanted to keep her in it for as long as possible. He released the string of the knot.

He took a deep breath to ease the tension in his chest that only worsened the tension in his pants. Then Kit slowly took her hip in his hand and he squeezed meaningfully, as he always did when he was in her. Emilia moaned softly, her hips squirming. Kit did not need to check to know she would be wet by now, he could tell from the sound of her moan and the way her body tensed. Gently, he released her to allow his hand to wander to her bum. She felt soft and ample for him to knead, “I want to see your arse,” he croaked out.

She bit her lip and hesitation flickered in her eyes. Kit knew how self-conscious she was of her body; particularly her arms, hips, thighs and arse, and the fact that she willingly dressed up in such a revealing outfit for him, Kit was immensely touched. He was determined to chase away any self-consciousness regarding her body, which Kit felt is absolutely breath-taking. He gazed down at her with an intense desire that coiled beneath his navel.

Eventually, she shifted and Kit eased off her, watching her unblinkingly as she obliged with his request. Grinning, he planted an open mouthed kiss upon her bare shoulder. She smiled and flipped over. His breathing ceased entirely when her back was all bare but for thin strings to hold the fabric up in the front. His eyes lowered to her arse and he swallowed, staring at the g-string that disappeared between her cheeks.

“Milly…” he gently palmed her arse cheek, marvelling at how soft and smooth she felt under his hand before he kneaded her experimentally but no less firmly. A soft gasp escaped her. He bit his tongue as his finger followed the g-string and trailed a path between her thighs. He felt warm moisture on her swollen slit and shifted uncomfortably as his hard length fought the fabric of his jeans, “Milly,” he called to her. She turned and met his gaze with those wonderful blue-gold eyes that he missed. Their gaze locked and he eagerly drank in the sight of deep longing in her expressive eyes. He made to stroke her, ready to make her come with his fingers when she shifted away. He whined audibly.

Emilia smirked, turning back around as she showed him the butt plug she still held, “let’s get this in first before we go any further,” she crawled to the edge of the bed and fished out a tube of lubricant from her bag. _This naughty girl._ He watched her grin at him as she squeezed a generous amount of lubricant on the butt plug. She tossed the tube of lubricant away before grasping it in a fist and stroking it to thoroughly lubricate it.

Despite the initial trepidation, he felt himself grow harder till he moistened his pants. As she rotated her wrist around the butt plug, Kit swallowed a groan, “it’s too big,” Kit blurted, his face flushing in embarrassment. He hated how he sounded but the adoration in her gaze did not falter even in the slightest and Kit began to picture her between his legs, looking up at him with _that_ gaze as one hand stroked his length while the other massaged him down under. The thought itself was incredibly erotic.

“We’ll start with my finger,” Kit stared at her small hand, “come here,” she said, her alluring voice deeper than usual. She fixed him with a gaze that was incredibly gentle and it was then, Kit could not continue to hide the budding excitement. He crawled to her, uncertain, “lie down,” she kissed him. Kit accepted her sweet kiss happily. He complied, trying not to look too eager lest Emilia got more adventurous than he can stomach.

As he lay down on his back and her free hand palmed his bulge through his jeans, he felt incredibly vulnerable. For a moment, he wondered if Emilia had always felt this way and gave herself to him all the same. His throat constricted and tears pricked his eyes at the thought. Kit blinked it away hurriedly, annoyed at how emotional he was being.

“Kitten…” to his dismay, her hand left him entirely. He watched, puzzled as she put away the butt plug and crawled to his side. Cradling his face between her hands, she leaned down to peck him gently on his cheek, “it’s okay, we don’t have to do it. I’m sorry-“ she rambled, her voice going up an octave in panic. She sounded on the verge of tears herself.  

Realising she had probably seen his tears, he covered her hands with his own, “no!” he interrupted, “no no no,” he waited for her to pause in her rambling, her eyes wide and searching his face, before he continued, “I-I want to try it,” he fought the burn in his cheeks.

She blinked, surprised, “then why…?” her thumbs wiped away at the edges of his moist eyes.

He shook his head, “I trust you,” he darted up to press a kiss to the tip of her nose. He watched a wide grin spread across her lovely face, scrunching up her eyes and nose prettily.

“I trust you too,” she whispered against his lips. She kissed him slowly. Kit allowed his hand to snake around her waist, his fingers wandering down to sneak another feel of her wonderfully soft bottom. She giggled when he pinched her, “I didn’t know you like my huge, fat arse so much,”

Kit surprised himself when he glared, upset at the insult she gave herself. He was with her when she read the horrible comments about her body after her first nude scenes on season 1 aired. Kit had been so enraged he had to keep himself from yelling _at_ her when she agreed sadly to those comments. She had been on the verge of tears and it was then that Kit swore off the internet, determined not to read anything on it; convinced it was all complete bollocks, as he hugged her to him, equally determined to protect her from even herself.

He turned his gaze onto her. She seemed surprised to see the intensity of his gaze. Palming her bottom gently, he looked into her eyes, “you. Are. Beautiful,” Kit watched her eyes well up before he sat up and pulled her into his lap. He cradled her to him, curling himself around her, “I _love_ all of you,” he caressed her bottom before proceeding to her shapely hips, “ _everything_ about you,” he nuzzled his nose into her hair as he pressed a firm kiss to her temple, “your eyes, your nose, your mouth, your cheeks, your chin, your cheekbone, your tongue-“

“Oh Christ, if you’re going list every part I have, we’ll be here until Christmas is over,” she lamented through a giggle.

Kit ignored her with a grin, “your forehead, your eyebrows, your ears, your hair, your neck, your collarbone, your shoulders, your arms, your hands-“

“ _Stop_ ,” she complained loudly, squeezing her eyes shut and burying her face into his chest. He laughed, his fingers trailing up along the curve of her small waist to the side of her breast. Grinning, he caressed the swell of her breast with his thumb. She hummed, leaning closer to him, “thank you, Kitten,” he shook his head dismissively, “now lie back,” she nudged him.

Kit laughed as he fell back into the pillows. He watched her crawl off his lap. She undid his jeans, tugging it off with a huff.

“Christ, your jeans are so fucking tight,” she frowned as she yanked his jeans down to his thighs.

“You know what else is tight,” he grinned cheekily, kicking it the rest of the way down to his ankles as Emilia leaned down, “and wet,” he feigned a sultry moan.

She giggled, “you cheeky bugger,” she smirked. Kit stared as she lowered herself to kiss him firmly upon his bulge, through his pants. He groaned, his hips bucking towards her fruitlessly as she straightened with a cheeky smirk. She removed his pants swiftly. His stiff length fell solidly onto his abdomen. Once she removed his jeans and pants from around his ankle, she tossed them aside.

Then she crawled to him. Kit watched the sway of her breasts with a lump in his throat. She coaxed his legs apart and, mesmerized, Kit allowed to sit between his legs. She reached for the lubricant and Kit watched her squeeze some of it into the palm of her reddened hands. From the sight of her hands, he knew her tender touch would be warm. Barely able to contain his excitement, Kit glimpsed his length twitch towards her before falling onto his abdomen.

She glanced to it before she giggled loudly, “impatient, aren’t you?” she rubbed her hands together before collecting his neglected, swollen length. He sighed happily as she fisted him firmly with both hands. She stroked him and her fists glided smoothly around him. Her hands were incredibly soft and Kit’s eyes threatened to roll to the back of his head when her wrists rotated in opposite directions along his length.

“Emilia,” he groaned softly. Longing for her fingers on his throbbing sacks, Kit bent his legs on both sides of her, angling his balls up to her. He barely noticed one of her hand leaving his length with her other hand not slowing in the slightest. She cupped his balls gently, rolling them between her fingers and Kit felt himself throb in her hand, “that’s it…” he whispered, his eyes slipping shut as she brushed, squeezed, stroked and caressed all of _his_ spots, “ _fuck_ ,” he muttered a curse when his balls tingled and he felt himself leaking from the tip.

Then he felt her well lubricated finger wander lower south, where she had never ventured before. He tensed.

“Kitten?”

His eyes flew open and he gazed down at her. _When will I get used to how lovely you look?_ Kit wondered as he took in the sight of her big, round blue-gold eyes, her parted plump lips, her little button nose. Gazing at her, Kit felt his heartbeat slow; from the frantic pounding to a calm rhythmic beat. He stared at her hand, languidly stroking him from the tip to the base. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to the gleaming, red, swollen tip of him. Kit sucked in a breath at the wonderful sight.

Her finger, down south, probed at him before gently delving deeper. At first, he felt discomfort but when Emilia’s lips parted around the head of him, all his worries fled from his mind. He watched her, transfixed, as she withdrew to the slit before devouring the head a few more times before descending upon his length progressively, “ _Christ_ ,” he hissed when he hit the back of her throat.

Then he felt a pressure deep within him and warm pleasure rippled across his body and he startled, “ _oooooohhhhh fuck_!” his legs twitched and his balls tensed, as if in anticipation of his release. But it didn’t happen. He forced his eyes open to gaze down. His length was so hard it was curved towards his abdomen. Her mouth had left him and Kit hadn’t even realised when she did.

He gazed to her, trying to comprehend what just happened. She was smiling at him warmly. Then he felt a pressure at the same spot deep within his pelvis and an unwittingly loud groan left him. Bliss washed over him and he pleaded for her to keep going. He could feel her comply, massaging and applying the same amount of pleasure on _that_ sweet spot.

Kit felt it building and he began to push into her hand. He wanted to tell her he was going to come but could not manage to get the words out before it hit him like a tonne of bricks.

Waves of pleasure crashed into him. His body arched itself like a bow string, rising from the bed, as his skin exploded in millions of little tingles. Goosebumps formed upon his skin. Dizzying pleasure washed over him and he heard a loud, guttural moan.

It sounded unlike him.

His balls tightened then, lodging themselves as close to his body as physically possible and Kit could do nothing to fight against the need to come. He felt a warm, urgent flood of fluid through his dick and he exploded from the tip with a loud, prolonged cry. He convulsed, his legs twitching, as his body attempted to cope with the overwhelming amounts of pleasure as his balls expelled copiously, “ _Milly_ ,” he moaned.

When it was over, Kit was quivering uncontrollably and trying to gasp in huge lungful of air as the waves of pleasure ebbed away to the tip of his fingers and toes. He felt her touch his softening dick tentatively and a jolt shot through his body, “ahhh,” he cried out, jerking. She giggled and Kit felt her warm hand on his thigh. He yelped as her hands settled on his tingling skin. She did not move and he eventually relaxed. Emilia stroked his thighs slowly, trying to comfort him as he regained his composure.

“ _Holy fuck,_ ” Kit sighed. He absently opened his eyes to see her smirking at him.

“You okay?” Emilia giggled. Kit took a deep breath, and shivered as a tingle ran down his spine. He admired her for a moment before his gaze fell to his belly. His dick was completely soft and limp. His cum pooled on his belly; a larger pool than he thought possible. He gazed sheepishly up to her to find her looking sheepish, “I did want you to finish in my mouth but you came so quickly…” she teased him.

Kit felt his cheeks warm, “that… feels so good,” he gazed at her in awe.

She grinned, “good,” she whispered. Reaching to her side, she picked up and showed him the item once more. Kit stared it, now in a different light as he wondered how it would feel to have it in him as opposed to have her finger massaging him. Then his mind began entertaining the tempting possibility to have that in him and his dick in her sweet, wet channel. He turned to her to see her gazing at him with a questioning look in her eyes.

He chuckled, fighting the excitement as he feigned nonchalance, “fine, if it means I can finally have you already,” he sat up and made to dive to pin her onto her back. But his knees unexpectedly buckled and he fell into her.

Emilia squealed, “ _Kitten!_ ” his legs were incredibly shaky as he lay atop her, unable to move, “ _your cum!_ ” she complained as it presumably was smeared over her.  

“S-sorry,” he grunted, hiding his face into her neck in embarrassment that he had forgotten to clean up first and that he was unable to hold himself up. Kissing the skin of her neck, he nuzzled against her. She probed his bare arse insistently with the plug and Kit felt a twitch in his groin. He fought the urge to raise his arse to it. Emilia giggled and pushed him off her playfully. Kit rolled off her onto his back. He watched her lubricate it thoroughly, laughing as she licked the tip, her gaze watching him seductively.

She giggled before parting his legs.

“Wait,” she paused. Kit grinned at her, “the moment I have that in, I can do whatever I want to my birthday present?”

Emilia laughed, “yes,” instantly, Kit raised his legs, feeling confident and eager, “oh look at you,” Emilia giggled, making him laugh.

* * *

“Holy fucking fuck,” he panted, “Milly…” his trembling hand tried to squeeze hers, thankful their fingers were already laced together for he wasn’t sure he had the strength to find and take her hand at this time. His body was completely spent. He pried his eyes open to see her grinning down at him.

“Was it good?” she asked.

“Fuck, it-it was… “ the words died on the tip of his tongue when he realised he did not own the vocabulary to describe the experience he has just had. He swallowed, at loss for words as he gazed up at her in awe. She was sat atop him, straddling his hips. She was still clad in her lingerie, looking desirable and heavenly. Her hot, wet walls pulsed around him in time with her heart and Kit felt an overwhelming feeling of bliss settle in his chest. Succumbing to the urge to hold her, he tugged her to him weakly and giggling, she lay over him, tucking her head underneath his chin.

With her ear against his chest, she giggled, “Kitten, your heart is pounding,” his chuckles were interrupted with a cry when she teasingly brushed his nipple. That sensation alone caused him to convulse uncontrollably. Her body shook with amusement, “happy birthday, my Kitten,” she whispered, lifting her head just enough to press a kiss to his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to all the support shown last chapter. It was really encouraging and got me up and writing really quickly! (will be over there to reply all the lovely comments right after I update)
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy this huge thank-you gift, wrapped up in fluff and too much smut ;) 
> 
> Let me know which part was your favourite interaction of our favourite couple :)


	20. Clarkes

_December 2016, somewhere between Worcestershire and Oxfordshire._

**Emilia**

“You okay?” Kit asked her out of the blue. She was admiring the passing cars and scenery. She turned to the pretty sight of him sitting beside her. And she thought he looked stunning. The sun was finally shining. His deep set eyes were fixed on the motorway as he drove. A small smile graced his pillowy lips as he waited expectantly for her answer. Her gaze lingered on his lips longer than she know she should let it. She admired the pinkish hue, the softness and the sheen of moisture she detected. Unwittingly, her tongue darted out to lick her own lips, trying to find a hint of the taste of him on her. They had, after all, just kissed at a traffic light before they hit the motorway. 

Tearing her eyes from his lips, she took in the pleasing sight of his beard, freshly groomed and sculpted at the local barber. His mane of raven curls, recently trimmed, held an alluring shine, as they always did. But on this particular day, his hair looked magnificent and Emilia knew why. He had spent some time this morning combing it. She was so surprised for she didn’t even know he owned a comb, having never seen him use it. Unable to resist, she reached towards him and caught a stray curl at the nape his neck, marvelling at how soft it felt. She wondered for a bizarre moment if Kit had moisturized his hair too.

Kit ducked away unexpectedly, a playful scowl on his face, “get off my hair,” he grumbled as he fended her hand off with one of his but instead of shoving her away, he took her hand in his. In his firm but gentle grip, Kit brought her hand to his lips. Pressing a kiss to her knuckles, he nuzzled his bearded cheek to the back of her hand. She noticed the exceptional softness of his beard, wondering what he did to it.

“Why?” she asked, amused as she watched him indulge in trying very hard to give her beard burn with a lopsided smile on his face. He shook his head, refusing to reply her for some absurd reason, “come on, tell me,” she teased, cupping his cheek and brushing the pad of her thumb across his soft cheek.

He pouted but from his constant smile, it was obvious he enjoyed her touch, “I don’t want you to mess it up…” he muttered so softly she almost missed it.

She paused. Then she recalled how long he took in the shower last night and this morning, “Kit,” she stared at him, “did you specially get made up for my mum?” she snickered, almost unable to comprehend how much she wanted to kiss him.

“Why not?” Kit pouted, “you got made up for my mum and dad when you first met them!” he protested defensively.

She laughed, “exactly, when I _first_ met them. You must have met my mother about more than a dozen times by now!”

Kit’s sulk only darkened, “but as your mate, not as your boyfriend!” Her chest swelled and she couldn’t help but giggled, “it’s not funny…” he whined but she could spot the way the edges of his lips turn up in amusement.

“Well, if you want to impress my mum with your good looks, you might want to start with the abs,” she smirked, letting her hand drop from his cheek to brush his solid abdomen, “or your arse,” she teased.  

A laugh escaped him and he wiggled away from her searching fingers, “Milly, I’m driving!” he pursed his lips against a smile as he took her teasing hand in his, “I doubt your mum would appreciate me turning up starkers,” he rolled his eyes and looked immensely annoyed but Emilia saw right through that. She saw and felt the way he cradled her hand against his chest. His thumb caressed her knuckles so tenderly. Gazing at him, she also saw how nervous he was; in the way his palm felt a little sweaty, the way he chewed his lip one too many times, the way his eyes darted about more than usual. Emilia also thought she saw a sheen of sweat on his forehead. 

_Oh, my sweet Kitten, you are lovely._

She squeezed his hand, “my mum will love you,” she told him sincerely.

“You don’t know that…” Kit said weakly.

“I do know, because,” she leaned across the gearbox, pecking him on his bearded cheek soundly, “ _I_ love you,” she took a deep breath of his warm skin, blissfully filling her lungs with his fresh scent. When she reluctantly withdrew, she was rewarded with the sight of his smile. She sank back into her seat, grinning at him, immensely pleased with herself for making him smile.

“I’m sorry you couldn’t spend Christmas with your family…” Kit said suddenly, “I know how important Christmas is to you and your family,” his grip on her hand tightened just so, furrows forming between his brows and she knew it was something that has been bothering him.

“Kitten…I had a great time with your family and-“

“I know,” he said quickly, “and my family adores you… really,” he glanced to her, “you make my mum laugh… more than anyone can- … anyone but me,” he grinned. Emilia scoffed a laugh, “and I think she would be obsessing over that iPad you bought her,” Kit rolled his eyes, “fucking hell she loves you so much now… but well, almost as much as I do,”  

Emilia had bought Deborah a brand new iPad with all the apps installed in it so she could watch cooking shows that she had complained David wouldn’t let her watch. Emilia had then spend the rest of the afternoon snuggled on the couch with Deborah, helping her download more apps to watch some other shows she asked for and then they had enjoyed an episode of the Great British Bake-Off together.

“But I want _you_ to have a good time too. I know my birthday is around Christmas but you don’t have to feel obliged to spend every Christmas with my family. We can talk about this and on some years, we can spend Christmas at your mum’s, if she would have me… or if she wouldn’t, we can meet after Christmas…” she balked at the mere suggestion and he looked incredibly hesitant even as he suggested the last part. Her lips parted and she was about to speak when he hurriedly said, “what I am trying to say is… I want to spend Christmas, my birthday, New Years, Valentines Day, Easter, your birthday and Christmas again, with you. Every single year. Everything else, we can talk about it…” Kit took a breath as his voice trailed off.

 _Is he afraid I would get frustrated with trying to arrange our time around each other? Is he afraid I would give up on us? Again._ “Kitten,” she firmly said and glimpsed his adam-apple bob, “I enjoyed myself… so much this holiday,” she squeezed his hand, deciding to admit it to him, “yes I would have loved to spend Christmas with my mum,” his hand tightened around hers, “but... I made the decision to have Christmas with your family and I do not regret even a moment of it. Every single second of it was beautiful,” she smiled, giving him a meaningful look, “I spent it being in your life; getting to know you and those you love the most,”

And it is true. She felt she knew him better from surprising Kit by arriving at his parents’ a day sooner than him, baking cookies and cake through the night for his birthday and his family, throwing a party for him at his house with all his friends, spending a night at a hotel with Kit to properly present him with his birthday present. Every moment of it felt special to her.

He glanced at her to meet her eye and Kit’s face lit up, leaving no doubts as to what he had just recalled, “tell me you still have it with you,” Kit grinned.

Rolling her eyes, her face heated up at the thought of that risqué lingerie she had packed away in her luggage. She had brought and put on for him. It was a black, lacy, sheer body suit, finished with a g-string that left nothing to the imagination. It was incredibly embarrassing to purchase and even more so after she had put it on and was examining herself in the mirror as Kit waited impatiently outside. She hated the way the lingerie did nothing to conceal her plump arms and big thighs and huge arse… But the moment she emerged, the look on his face chased away any worry or embarrassment she had. The way he looked at her made her feel gorgeous.

“I think it may be my favourite present ever,” Kit’s grin, if possible, widened, “in my life…”

 Emilia giggled, “better than the butt plug?”

Kit’s face turned tomato red and he choked on a nervous laugh.

Emilia burst out into peals of laughter. After she had presented herself wrapped in lingerie to him for his birthday, she had told him he can have her however he liked and she would be gamed. But the condition that he had to try to use the butt plug, effectively chased the grin from his face. Despite his initial hesitation, Emilia vividly recalled the way his body arched off the bed as he shot a huge load and the loud groan that escaped him. She smirked, “it wasn’t that bad!”

Kit cleared his throat and she giggled at how shy he looked, “no, it wasn’t,” his voice sounded curiously hoarse as he agreed, “except I could still feel that damn thing the next morning and couldn’t really walk straight,”

“Well, now you know how I feel the morning after you fucked me raw,” she told him, “and your cum that leaks out of me as I go about my day is just the cherry on top,” Kit laughed and from the look on his face, Emilia knew he was revisiting that lovely night in his mind as well. Just thinking of it and knowing he is thinking of it too, Emilia could almost feel the way pleasure wrecked her body as he thrusted wildly into her. As she pictured the look on his face and the raw moan that left him when he came much too soon, she felt herself begin to moisten.

“The massive shit I took after was frightening too,” Kit said, straight-faced. She laughed. Kit then turned to her, seemingly having come to some sort of realisation, “we wouldn’t have sex for the next few days...” he shot her a pitiful look before glancing back to the road.

Emilia chuckled, feeling longing begin to gnaw at her at just the mere thought of it, “my brother’s room is right next to mine so probably not,” she laughed, already cringing at the thought of her brother hearing anything; neither she nor Kit was capable of being that quiet during sex. After that night in the hotel, they tried to muffle their moans against each other’s mouths as they made love against the wall but the looks Jack shot them over breakfast the next day stopped them for the rest of the holiday. Thankfully, Deborah and David seemed to not have heard anything.

Kit groaned in dismay, “really?” he pouted, “that’s a long time…”

“Well, I am not taking the risk with my brother so close by,” Emilia squeezed his hand, pulling his hand into her lap. Kit was such a lovely man, the last thing Emilia wanted was one night of impulse to ruin her family’s impression of him. She gazed down to admire the veins on the back of his meaty hands. Taking his hand in both of hers, she massaged his palm with her thumbs. 

Kit sighed. Then he flicked on the blinker, glancing to change lanes.

“Kit, what are you doing?” she raised a brow. They still have a ways to go before they reached Oxfordshire, “do you want to switch drivers?” she asked. Kit did not reply her but steadily brought the car off the motorway, “Kitten,” she tugged on his hand. He squeezed her hand as he turned into a town and into a small, deserted street. She had no idea where they were. She glanced around to see that there was no shops nearby as she heard Kit unbuckle his seatbelt. There was no one around for as far as she could see. She turned back to Kit, utterly confused, “Kit-“

His lips took hers with a ferocity that took her breath away in an instant. He kissed her with so much eagerness and passion she could do little against the soft moan that slipped from her lips. His beard felt so soft on her chin and his mouth was immensely moist and warm. She reached for the nape of his neck to pull him closer. She was mildly aware of Kit climbing from his seat into hers. He pulled away abruptly, already panting heavily. He reached down to adjust the seat and it was then that Emilia realised he was straddled across her thighs. 

“Kitten…” she licked her lips as she gazed down at the zipper of his tight jeans. She reached for him, longing for the sight, feel and taste of him. But before she could reach him, she squealed in surprise when he presumably pulled the lever of the seat, pushing the seat all the way back for some leg room, and lowering the seat so she was reclined.

Before she could reach up to pull him to her, he dove down to her, meeting her halfway. His lips found hers and his fingers found the buttons to her blouse, “I want to make love to you,” he whispered breathily as he ducked his head to her neck. His words made her shiver as her body readied itself for him.

She laughed, breathless as he kissed the sensitive skin of her neck. The brush of his lips on her skin felt incredible, “oh god, please don’t leave a mark, I don’t want to have to explain it my mum-” in response, he pulled aside her blouse to reveal her breasts, nestled in her bra. With a soft sigh, he dipped his head and kissed the swell of her breast, hard. She gasped, the pain mixed with pleasure pooling between her thighs in her knickers, “Kitten...” he unbuckled her belt, opened the button and zipper of her jeans before slipping a hand into her knickers. His fingers teasingly brushed her mound before he circled her clit slowly. The low drawn out moan that left her then was so loud she wondered if she could be heard outside the car.

“You’re so wet already,” he whispered and she felt his lips curve into a smile on her breast. Her breath hitched when his practiced fingers smeared her juices along her folds before he carefully massaged her sensitive bundle of nerves. Her hips bucked against his hand.

“Kitten,” she whimpered, grounding herself into his hand. He kissed her to soothe her impatience but she returned his kiss hastily as her hands fumbled at his jeans. She could feel his hardness pressing against the zipper. Pulling open the front of his jeans, she found the immensely warm, hard flesh and gently drew it from its confines. A halting groan emitted from him deep within his throat as she stroked him languidly, longing for a taste of him.

Kit drew back to tug her jeans and knickers down. She lifted her hips and he tugged her jeans down to her knees. He made to pull her jeans and knickers completely off her but Emilia turned onto her side so her legs were over the gearbox. Huffing impatiently, she grabbed a fistful of his shirt to pull him before reaching for his hard length to guide him into her.

“Kitten,” she fixed a desperately longing gaze on him, making sure to raise her brows and round her eyes in plea. He never could deny her much when she gave him those eyes. He sighed before he leaned over her and pressed his forehead to hers.

“Milly,” he whispered against her lips as he thrusted into her. A loud gasp fell from both their lips as he slipped past her wet, moist folds. He felt incredibly hard and warm. His breaths came in loud pants in time with hers as he leaned closer, burying himself completely into her. He groaned softly, “-milia,” he leaned down and nipped her earlobe sharply, “I love you,” he croaked out as his hips pulled back to thrust back in; his pace slow, measured and deliberate, “I love you so much,”

His fingers caressed her bare thighs as he peppered her face with kisses. She sighed only to hear it come out as a moan. Every thrust was dizzyingly pleasurable and his fingers on her clit was making it hard for her to breathe, “ _oh Kitten…_ ” he hummed in response, his fingers on her relentless in chasing the peak of her pleasure. He pressed his lips to hers in a sweet, languid kiss, thorough in savouring her taste, “Kit,” she breathed as he withdrew from her just momentarily, “Kit-“ he pushed deeper. She moaned, feeling the tension under her navel build to a peak. She was so close.

Then he buried himself and stopped. Still in her, he lay over her, gently letting some of his weight rest. Unmoving, she could feel his veins throbbing against her walls, in time with his heart. He nuzzled his face to hers, running his nose alongside hers, their cheeks brushing. The intimacy of this moment was unlike any she has ever felt. She fluttered around him without meaning to and he grunted, twitching and swelling inside her. She could feel his soft, velvet sacks resting against her bottom.

She reached for him. Cupping them in her palm, she revelled in his warmth and the heaviness in them. Her channel coiled in anticipation for what the weight of them promised. Kit hummed deeply. She leaned up to kiss him and he met her halfway, eager.

“Let’s stay here all day,” he whispered, sounding drowsy.

“And miss dinner at my mum’s? Fuck no,” she retorted hotly. Giving him a light squeeze, Kit groaned in dismay but began moving his hips once more.

*

“How do I look?” he turned to her after tidying his hair and his clothes once more. She gazed to him. In all honesty, he looked ridiculously fit despite their raunchy love-making. As a young girl, Emilia would never have dreamt that she would bring someone like Kit home to meet her family. She had always imagined, or rather hoped, it would be someone nice, kind, sweet and funny; someone not unlike Kit. But she would never even dare to think she would bring home someone who looked as good at Kit does. As much as she would hate to admit it to him, she often admitted it to herself. Kit looked a dream.

“You look good,” she told him simply.

Kit sighed but it wasn’t one of relief. He glanced down to his shirt before groaning softly in dismay at how rumpled it look at the collar. Emilia had grabbed a fistful of his shirt during their love-making to pull him closer and she didn’t feel the least bit guilty. In fact, she was immensely proud of herself for not messing up his hair instead. She was also annoyed that the rumpled collar did not mar his beauty even in the slightest.

She watched him try to iron it smooth with his palms but failed spectacularly. A whimper escaped him when he gazed down at it with a deep furrow between his brows. He was starting to panic in earnest so Emilia said, “leave it, Kitten,”

He sighed again, one of frustration now, “it makes me look like a slob,” his face twisted in despair.

“You are,” she teased, giggling but Kit did not even smile. If anything, he looked so despondent then she could do nothing against the urge to draw him into her arms. Kit relented, unsmiling, rigid. She hugged his head to her chest, minding his hair. Lowering her chin to nose his hair and take in his fresh scent of amber and cedar, she pressed a kiss to his forehead, “I love you,” she whispered against his forehead, appalled to find a light sheen of sweat, “hey,” she let him go and he withdrew, looking to be on the verge of crying. She would have giggled if he did not look so upset.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, hanging his head, “I know you probably thought you were bringing a confident man to meet your mum. Instead, you’re stuck with a pitiful slob,”

She cupped his cheek with both her hands, enjoying the softness of his beard as she lifted his face, “I know exactly who I am bringing to meet my mum,” she fixed her gaze unblinkingly on him, hoping to leave no question in his mind as to who she saw, “I’m bringing my _Kitten_ ; a man so gentle, and kind, and sweet. My lover and my best friend who knows me and loves me,” her heart fluttered at her own admission that she grew surer of with every moment she spent with him.

She watched hope glimmer in his eyes as he gazed at her with a gaze so painfully tender. She could see he wanted to believe her; he wanted to be the man she saw and it was so frustrating to her because she knew he is!

“Kitten, whatever happens, you know I love you,” she ran her thumbs across his cheeks, scuffing his beard.

Kit nodded, frantic, “I know,” he whimpered thickly, “I know you do, and that is why I just want to do this one thing right. I have to-“ panic flickered across his face.

“Whatever happens,” she reluctantly withdrew her touch to show him her right little finger. The white of the tattoo was faded, yellowish from washing, but present. He gazed down at her tattoo, the reminder of the permanence of her love for him. He collected her hand in both of his so gently as if he was afraid she would break.

In their time together since he knew of it, she has caught him looking at the tattoo so frequently, she was sure he knew it better than her by now. Every time he did, there would be an intent, almost obsessive look, in his eyes as he stared at it. Her heart would break then, that he needed a reminder, an assurance of her love for him.  

His eyes slipped shut as he kissed her over her tattoo. Peace washed over his features and when he opened his eyes, he didn’t look as frightened anymore even if more than a little trepidation was still present. She smiled at him and he managed a smile back, albeit a weak one, “if all else fails, just bear in mind that your cum is probably leaking out of me in that moment,” she rolled her eyes and shifted her hips, already dreading the moment.

Kit burst out into gut-shaking laughter. Grinning, he leaned forward to cup her face as he pressed a firm kiss, full on her lips. He parted from her soundly before nuzzling the side of his nose along hers, “thank you,” he whispered coyly, his soft, smiling gaze fixed on her lips when she drew back. They exited the car and met the other at the bonnet.

She studied the way his slick combed-back curls looked brown in the natural light, his deep-set chocolate coloured eyes twinkling. His plump lips fell in a small pout, framed by his dark moustache and beard. His neck was flushed behind his slightly rumpled collar as were his ears, the pink skin tempting her to lean in for a taste. Under his shirt, his broad frame looked sturdy and squared as he straightened, showing off the definition in his broad chest that she remembered cuddling against more often than she should. Strong arms, concealed by his sleeves, led her to large veiny hands that were currently busy wringing his meaty fingers in sheer anxiety.

She took his hand in hers, effectively putting a stop to the torture he was putting his poor fingers through. Kit’s hand automatically responded, his fingers finding their familiar spot against hers, “you are looking very handsome,” she grinned at him, knowing that it would give him a huge confidence boost.

Kit matched her grin and her heart fluttered at the sight of his mischievous, boyish smile. _Kit Harington… if you keep this up, you wouldn’t have to say a single word to win my poor mum over…_ “I’ve charmed you well enough, I think the other Clarkes are no problem,”

She laughed, tugging him by the hand to the door. _That’s my Kitten._ Kit admired her with an unwavering, gentle gaze and he had a bounce in his steps as they approached the front door.

“Mum!” Emilia hollered as she knocked.

As they waited, Kit turned to her. She grinned up at him and Kit chuckled as he shifted from one foot to the next. She watched him lick his lips before his eyes darted to her lips and his free hand came up to touch her just under the edge of her lips, “I love your little dimple here,” he told her, his voice unusually deep. She giggled, leaning into his touch.

The door opened.

Kit dropped his hand from her face, straightened and turned away. His hand slackened around hers but Emilia’s grip tightened around his hand. She turned to see her mother. Her glasses were on, her hair neat. She was dressed warmly in a thick, dark red and green festive jumper and black trousers. Emilia watched a wide smile brighten her mother’s face as they stepped into the house. Wordlessly, her mother engulfed her in a firm hug and Emilia hugged her mother back with her free hand, refusing to let Kit go lest he fled straight out of the house.  

“Oh I missed you ‘milia,” her mother’s muffled whisper reached her ear as she rubbed Emilia’s back warm. Emilia swallowed a sigh as she sank gratefully into her mother’s soft embrace. Too soon, her mother pulled away to press two kisses to the side of her head, “you were away for too long,” her mother chided gently before she pressed another firm kiss to her cheek.  

“I missed you too, mum,” Emilia smiled as her mother’s arms loosened around her enough for her to withdraw.

Her mum gazed over her, examining her, as she always does when Emilia returned home after a long time. As usual, her nose wrinkled in dissatisfaction at something. That is until, her eyes caught her hand, still nestled in Kit’s. Emilia watched, pleased, as her mother’s face lit up, “and who might this be?” her mother asked, amusement evident on her face and in her voice.

Emilia followed her mother’s gaze to Kit. Kit was standing unusually straight. He glanced between her mother and her before deciding to settle his gentle gaze on her, seeming to be waiting for her cue. She could feel his palm start to sweat in earnest. Kit’s almost crippling anxiety of meeting her mother was really starting to amuse Emilia. Emilia grinned, “Mum, you’ve met Kit,” she tugged him forward so he was standing in step with her rather than one step behind, “Christopher Catesby Harington,” Emilia emphasised with a thick posh accent.

Kit threw her a withering look before an easy, charming smile spread across his wonderful lips, “how are you, Jenny?” Kit’s voice was warm, deep, and Emilia smiled. She has always loved his voice. He bit his lips as he gently pulled his hand from hers to extend it to her mother.

Jennifer Clarke smiled kindly as she returned his handshake, a picture of calm confidence that Emilia imagined was how her mother looked while she was managing those big corporations, “I’m very well, thank you. And how are you, Christopher?” Emilia only wished she was as articulate and confident as her mother.

“I’m well, thank you,” Kit smiled, accepting her mother’s offer to a hug and cheek kisses, “but please, just Kit’s fine,” he glanced over to her pointedly, “Christopher’s only for when I am in trouble,” Kit rambled, the nerves evident. The moment Kit was released from her mother’s undoubtedly firm handshake, Emilia eagerly scooped up his warm, moist hand.

Her mum chuckled good-naturedly and Emilia was grateful when her mother’s amusement relaxed Kit’s poor stiff shoulders just slightly, “welcome to Clarke’s residence,” Jenny smiled. Kit chuckled, nodding his thanks, “that’s not a very good introduction for poor Kit here, is it, Emilia?” she narrowed her eyes at Emilia conspiratorially.

Emilia felt her cheeks warm at what her mother was implying. Her mother already knew why Kit was visiting for the holidays as Emilia had told her mother that Kit has accepted her and they are dating now. It was obvious her mother was teasing, “you already know Kit, mum. You’ve met him loads of times,” Emilia muttered grudgingly.

Jenny’s gaze fell to Kit, as if studying him, as she said, smiling, “I would say getting to know a man as my daughter’s boyfriend and getting to know a man as my daughter’s best friend is pretty different. Wouldn’t you say so, Kit?”

Kit flushed, “um…” he glanced to Emilia, evidently at loss for what to say and Emilia did not blame him. Most men are in the face of Jenny Clarke. She could be very sharp-tongued when she wants to be. And so happens, today appears to be their lucky day.

Emilia rolled her eyes, deciding to save poor Kit, “mum,” she lamented, “he _is_ my best friend!” she squeezed Kit’s hand firmly with both of hers, leaning into his arm. At Jenny’s raised brow, Emilia muttered, “and my boyfriend,” Emilia fought the warmth blooming in her cheeks. She gazed up at Kit from where she stood beside him. He glanced to her, a small smile on his lips. His thumb caressed the inside of her wrist and Emilia fought the urge to giggle and hide her face into his shoulder.

“Well, it’s good to finally be properly introduced to such a charming fellow,” Jenny pursed her lips against a smile but Emilia could see the twinkle in her mother’s eyes as she gazed at Kit. Beside her, Emilia glimpsed Kit’s cheeks turn just slightly pink at the casual compliment her mum just dropped, “it is nice meeting you, Kit,”

To Emilia’s surprise, a cheeky, much too handsome, grin spread across his lovely face, “and it’s nice to meet my girlfriend’s darling mum,”  

Jenny looked visibly surprised. Emilia blinked, equally surprised. She knew Kit was more than capable of saying things like that but the fact that he would dare to reply her intimidating mother like that was completely unexpected. Pride blossomed in her chest and Emilia would hug Kit to her if it wouldn’t incite more teasing from her mother.

Jenny laughed before chaperoning them into the sitting room, all tension slowly but surely dissipating.

* * *

Kit’s firm arse had barely kissed the cushions before he shot back up, offering to get the tea from the kitchen when Jenny made to bring the tea out. Even when Jenny refused, Kit shifted uneasily on his feet. Emilia knew Kit has had the habit of helping around the house in-built in him by _his_ darling mother and Emilia loved him more for it. But Emilia also knew Kit was starting a battle he has lost from the beginning.

“Make sure Kit here sits down, Emilia,” her mother said firmly, an order. Emilia giggled in affirmative as she stood in front of Kit and shoved him back, hard. Kit huffed in amusement as he sat down heavily on the old couch. Grinning, she eagerly climbed into his lap, acceding to her mother’s order much too happily.

“Clarke…” he shifted uneasily under her, glancing back to the kitchen.

She giggled, sitting with both legs stretched along the couch. She snuggled closer to his chest as she adjusted her bottom. He glared at her as her bottom grinded onto his crotch firmly, “what?” she blinked, her face open and guileless, “mum said… I have to make sure you sit down,”

He rolled his eyes but his arm circled her back all the same, his gentle hand resting on her hip. Grinning, she threw her arm across his shoulders, her fingers finding the knot in his stiff shoulder and massaging him gently. He sighed softly, relaxing and allowing his shoulders to droop as he leaned into her. She straightened as he nestled his face into the crook of her neck, his forehead was cold from sweat. She nuzzled his cheek with her jaw, “you look a lot like your mum,” he murmured.

“So you should feel right at home,” Emilia tickled his bearded cheek with her fingers.

“Right, here we are,” Her mother graciously announced her impending entrance and poor Kit shot up like an arrow. Emilia muffled her giggle against her free hand as Kit, frazzled, looked towards the kitchen. Her mother was holding a tray, with a large teapot, three teacups with milk and sugar on the side.

“Wow, you broke out the festive tea set,” Emilia teased and Jenny clucked her tongue in disapproval at Emilia for exposing her, “aren’t you honoured, Mr Harington?”

Kit chuckled, “very much so, Ms Clarke,” she admired the easy smile on his face.

“Emilia, sit elsewhere,” Jenny said sharply, “you’re going to hurt Kit’s legs,”

Emilia knew her mother was only being overly stern with her because of Kit. She has always been strict with instilling manners in her children, especially in front of guests. But Emilia was reluctant to move from where she was so comfortable and Kit wasn’t a guest, not to Emilia. So she giggled, “his legs are fine,” she turned to her mother to see her pursing her lips against a smile as she sat down in a loveseat beside them, “his legs are very strong. He goes to the gym a lot,” she glanced to Kit to see him blushing bright red.

Jenny chuckled, “I can tell. You’re a well-built young man,” her mother reached to pour out her own tea.

“And Kit likes me sitting on his lap-“ Emilia was in the middle of saying smugly when she was abruptly carried from his lap. She yelped in surprise as Kit lowered her to the seat beside him to scoot forward for the tea. She whined, “Kit!” Kit chuckled, refusing to look at her, his face still awfully flushed.

Jenny laughed as she handed Kit the teapot. Kit poured out the milk into both teacups before he poured the tea. Jenny raised a brow, “you take your tea like that too, Kit?”

Kit smiled and replied, “it’s easier to pour all the milk out for both of us rather than pour the milk for her then pick up the tea only to pick up the milk again for me,”

Jenny chuckled, “I have been arguing with her about it for years. I see she has convinced you,” Emilia watched Kit add just the right amount of sugar for her. He stirred it before handing her her cup.

“Not really,” Kit said softly. She wordlessly brushed his fingers in thanks as she took her cup of tea from him, “all I can say is that I choose my battles carefully,” Emilia mocked a scowl, hitting him on the thigh with her free hand. Kit pursed his lips against a smile.

Jenny nodded sagely, “very clever man,”

 

**Kit**

_Nothing can’t be solved by a decent cup of tea._ Milly always said.

And true to her word, his nerves were mostly gone after that cup of tea and a good relaxing sit-down with Jenny Clarke. Although Kit has met Emilia’s mum on more than one occasion, because Jenny has accompanied her at work and award shows, this is the first time he would be under her intense scrutiny; as most men are when they meet the parents as boyfriends for the first time. And to be under the scrutiny of Jenny Clarke is _bloody intimidating._

That woman has a sharp mind. But with more conversation, Kit got to know her kindness, her love for Emilia, and her wicked sense of humour. As unnerving as it felt to talk to Jenny, Kit was remiss when they have to pause the conversation to settle in upstairs and prepare for dinner.

Kit hoisted both their bags from the car to their rooms with Emilia teasing him the whole time, harping inappropriately on his biceps and abs. Kit shook his head, chuckling as he glanced over to see her soft adoring gaze of thanks. Jenny clucked her tongue in disapproval at Emilia but Kit saw her smiling adoringly at her daughter all the same.

“Kit, I’ve prepared the guest room-“ Jenny started.

“Mum!” Emilia lamented but was instantly silenced by Jenny’s sharp no-nonsense look.

Kit balked instinctively at the idea of sleeping away from her after spending nights after nights cuddling with her, watching the way she mutters to herself in her sleep, breathing her in till he fell asleep. Despite himself, very conscious of Jenny’s eyes on him, Kit forced a smile, “thank you Jenny,” Emilia pouted, dropping her head on his shoulder. He chuckled, telling her, “we’re still in the same house, Milly,”

Emilia tensed against him and Kit frowned, puzzled as she picked her head off his shoulder and gazed towards her mum. Kit followed her gaze to see Jenny looking unusually pale. Seeming to sense their eyes on her, Jenny cleared her throat, “I’ll leave you both to settle in. Ben should be coming back soon,” avoiding both their eyes, Jenny then hurriedly shuffled down the stairs.

Completely baffled, he turned to Emilia, “what did I say….?” Kit whimpered out. He could slap himself even if he had no idea what he said wrong.

“Nothing,” Emilia held his hand in both of hers, squeezing it, “you called me Milly…” she whispered, fixing him with a meaningful look, “my dad used to call me that…”

He was aghast. He knew that for Emilia had told him when he first called her that but it hadn’t crossed his mind not to call her that in front of her family, “I’m sorry,” he frowned, feeling panic rise in his throat that he had offended Jenny.  

“No, you did nothing wrong,” Emilia smiled sadly and Kit felt his stomach twist at the broken look in her eyes, “she misses him, that’s all. Sometimes, because Ben looks so much like him, she would freeze when she sees him,” she sighed. He hated the hurt he detected in her tone before he collected her in his arms, kissing the top of her head. She snuggled against his chest and he tightened his arms around her, wishing he could do something for her to take away the pain, “ _Kitten,_ ” he heard her whisper of a sob before her arms snaked around his waist, hugging him tightly.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into her hair, “I’m sorry for upsetting your mother. I’m sorry for taking you away from her this Christmas. I’m sorry I couldn’t meet your dad,” he smoothed her hair on the back of her head before burying his nose into her scalp, breathing in her sweet scent.

“No,” a muffled reply before she sniffed loudly and drew back to peer up at him, “none of it is your fault and you shouldn’t be sorry,” Kit gazed down at her sadly to see her eyes were red-rimmed and the tip of her nose red, “but I know my dad would have loved to meet you,” she choked out. She swallowed heavily before she forced a smile. The sight of her trying so hard to be happy made tears prick his eyes, “I don’t know if he would’ve liked you though, you _are_ stealing his only daughter,” a wet giggle left her.

Kit chuckled, “I would have pissed myself,” he lowered his head and pressed his forehead to hers as he hugged her little body tighter to him.

A low laugh burst from her abruptly, “yes you would have. He’s protective,” she nuzzled her nose to his, a smile gracing her lips. His heart leaped to his throat at the sight of her gorgeous smile and Kit could not resist from feeling that smile on his lips, “oh,” she giggled, evidently surprised even as she hastily returned his kiss, “the first kiss in my parents’ house,” she whispered.

Kit glanced down to see her taking her lower lip into her mouth, tasting it; tasting _him._ His body thrummed with longing for her; to hold, to taste, to feel, to join, “not the last,” he promised, more to himself than her.

“Ok,” she giggled, “my dad definitely would’ve hated you,”

Kit laughed, pressing a kiss to her cheek as she squirmed from his tickling fingers.

* * *

Kit has been banished from the kitchen but Kit considered it a triumph that he left it with cutlery to lay the table with. He could hear Emilia giggling with her mother and Kit smiled.

Then the doorbell rang. Kit knew it would probably be Bennett, Emilia’s brother, but hesitated if he should take the liberty to open the door. Emilia emerged from the kitchen then. She smiled at him, her excitement to see her brother palpable, as she hopped to the door. He could hear them greeting the other and as he set the last set of cutlery down, Kit looked up to see Bennett walking in with Emilia.

Kit smiled at him. As Bennett was the part of the camera crew, Kit has seen him more times than he can count but was admittedly never that close to Bennett. The cast and crew were friendly but mostly formed lasting relationship amongst themselves. Kit was instantly reminded of speaking to Bennett during Emilia’s party in Caceres and he remembered what Bennett said with startling clarity. Swallowing his nerves that started bubbling up again, Kit approached them, offering a handshake.

Bennett smiled, shaking his hand firmly, “Kit, nice to see you again,”

“How are you, Bennett?” Kit thought there was something different about Bennett’s demeanour. He seemed stiff, his smile forced, his tone formal. But a glance at Emilia’s grin assuaged Kit’s worry.

“Good, thank you,” Bennett met his eye unblinkingly and a terse sort of silence fell between them. Kit was beginning to frown when Jenny emerged from the kitchen.

“Ben!”

Bennett broke their eye contact and grinned widely at his mother, “hi mum,” Kit turned to Emilia to see her already looking at him. Her brows raised in evident confusion. As mother and son hugged, Emilia came over to him.

“Did I say something wrong again?” Kit whispered, concerned.

Emilia shrugged, shaking her head as she glanced to her brother. Exhaling, she brushed the back of his hand with her fingers briefly before she brought him to sit at the table beside her.

They settled down for dinner and the dinner went by smoothly with more than a little laughter. Even if, the whole time Kit could not shake the feeling that Bennett was avoiding conversation with him.  

* * *

When they finished dessert, Jenny promptly sent both her children to do the dishes in the kitchen, “I always make them do the dishes together. Nothing like some chores to keep them united,” a twinkle was visible in Jenny’s eyes as she explained. Kit had offered to help with the dishes but was sternly stopped by Jenny, “did you enjoy dinner and dessert?”

Kit smiled, “it’s delicious, Jenny. Thank you so much,”

“I don’t know what is bothering Bennett this evening but I apologise on his behalf…he’s been less than welcoming,” Jenny said and Kit wasn’t surprised that despite Ben’s best effort to keep Jenny in the dark, she noticed.

“It’s no matter,” Kit said dismissively even as the thought of the way Ben avoided him gnawed at Kit, making his stomach churn and threatening to have him throw up his dinner. Kit hadn’t had the chance to confront Bennett about it but resolved to do so before the holiday ended. He would be damned if he left Oxfordshire without making a good impression on the Clarkes, “I’m sorry about this afternoon, before dinner,” Jenny raised a brow, “for a while now, I-I’ve taken to call her _Milly…_ ” Kit’s voice dropped lower as if Jenny couldn’t hear him then.

Jenny paused and she swallowed visibly. She shifted and blinked to collect herself before she shook her head, “it’s no matter, that’s between you and Emilia. It’s just that, I’m sure Emilia has told you… but _Rick_ -“ Jenny’s voice broke momentarily and she paused. Her gaze darted to the carpet before she looked at him with watery eyes, “Rick used to call her that; baby Milly. Sometimes he called her Billy for short,” Jenny chuckled. It was no secret Jenny disliked that nickname.

Kit watched pain etch itself on her face as she spoke of her husband. Kit felt his breath hitch in his throat as he tried to imagine the pain Jenny must be going through, to lose someone who was supposed to be with you for all of your life; a best friend, a lover, a companion in life. Until death. He supposed that the pain from losing a spouse, so permanently, was the kind of pain that wouldn’t go away in this lifetime. _The pain will be a form of remembrance. In a way, even in death, they will always be together._ Kit almost choked out a sob as he thought he saw himself where Jenny was; sitting beside an empty space on a loveseat where Emilia used to occupy. Pain wrenched at his heart and Kit could do nothing but to lean forward and place a tentative hand on Jenny’s hand.

She forced a smile as her leathery hand turned under Kit’s to hold his firmly. Kit swallowed and licked his lips, “I’m sorry Jenny. I wish…” he paused to blink away tears, “I wish I knew Rick. I know, from what Milly told me, what a wonderful man he was; an amazing father. I want, so badly, to meet the man who raised her and loved her… I would have been scared to death probably,” Kit admitted.

A hollow laugh rumbled from Jenny’s chest as she gazed sadly at him through her wet eyes, “Rick wasn’t the most present husband or father throughout the children’s childhood. Because of his job as a sound designer you see, he travelled with plays… but he was my husband, and the father of our children. And he always tried his very best. He gave us the very best he can give,” Jenny sniffed and Kit squeezed her hand, wondering if Jenny would accept a hug from him, “he loved his family and he loved his baby Milly most of all,” her voice cracked.

Welled up tears fell into his beard and Jenny clutched Kit’s hand in both of hers. Her wet eyes searched his face pleadingly and Kit decided to show her a piece of his heart, “I know nothing will replace a father’s love for his daughter like Rick has for Milly. But I promise I will love her, and care for her, with all the love I have,”

A tear rolled down her cheek and Jenny wiped at it with one hand, the other still holding his, “I suppose that is all I can ask from you,” she sniffed, “Rick would have wanted me to issue some threats to you too, I know,” Jenny chuckled bitterly, “but I never believed in those. The men who will leave, will leave no matter what we do. The men who will stay,” she smiled softly at him, “will stay no matter what happens, even when things get difficult; when life gets tough, when _the wife_ gets difficult,” Jenny laughed, “and I know our Milly will be plenty difficult,”  

Kit chuckled, “I think I am the difficult one,”

“I don’t see how, if you’ve accepted Emilia,” Jenny smiled kindly, “I am not about to lie and say that my daughter is the easiest woman around,” Kit chuckled, agreeing wholeheartedly that easy wasn’t even on the list of words that can be used to describe Emilia, “she is driven and intelligent but those qualities are the very ones that make her difficult at times. She is the most hard-headed person I know when she has set her mind on something. But at the same time, because of how much thought she puts into her decision, she can appear to be the most indecisive individual you have ever met,” Jenny mused, “she worries too much sometimes when things mean a lot to her,”

Suddenly, Kit could see her frazzled and worried about planning his birthday celebration, so much so she exhausted herself completely; he could see how anxious learning those foreign languages in the script made her, pushing her to the verge of tears for many nights; he could see a three year old her insisting on being an actor even as she worries over it all the same.

“And she has worried about you, more than a little,” Kit blinked, surprised, “she came to see me the night before she told you how she felt,” _so that was why she disappeared off to London from Belfast…_ Kit could not help then but feel self-conscious and shy that Emilia has been confiding in her mother regarding how she felt about him. But Kit himself could not say he did not confide in his own mother to seek advice about Emilia. The two of them were so much alike, Kit almost laughed out loud at the realisation.

“Is it safe to assume you told her to tell me how she feels?” Kit asked tentatively, hoping Emilia did not go against her mother’s wishes.  

Jenny laughed, “of course I did. She already wanted to when she came to me, she just needed someone to affirm her decision. She often does,” Jenny’s gaze was meaningful as it fell to him. Kit couldn’t help but feel that Jenny was handing this responsibility to him. The realisation was appalling as it was worrying to Kit.

“Jenny,” Kit scooted to the edge of his seat, “I think she wants that affirmation from her mother,”

Jenny smiled, “unfortunately, her mother wouldn’t always be here to give it. She will learn that soon enough… you’ll be with her for a much longer time than I can be,”

Her words wedged into his throat, making it hard for him to breathe, “don’t say that…”  

Jenny cut him off, “eventually, you will be the one she will seek that affirmation from and she may grow to be tiresome with her unending worries and circular questions,” as much as it was unfathomable to Kit, in this moment, to be annoyed at Emilia, he resolved to stay quiet and listen, “but all she really needs would be your presence; you to be there, to be a listening ear, to be reassuring, to check her decisions and correct it or affirm it,” Kit nodded when Jenny paused, “you are a good man, Kit,” she leaned forward and placed a tender hand on the side of his head, “you have taken such good care of our Milly,” her voice wavered and she opened her arms to him.

Without hesitation, Kit rose from his seat and sank lightly into her arms, hugging her back gently but firmly, “she takes even better care of me,” Kit replied softly.

Jenny chuckled, patting his back heavily, “you two kids take care of each other,” he withdrew when her arms loosened and she cupped his face.

Looking into her crinkled, smiling eyes that Emilia inherited, Kit could not help but blurt, “I want to ask her to marry me,” Jenny stared at him, her hands lowering and Kit sat back into his seat, shifting and stammering, “I-I mean-“ he paused, clearing his throat and gathering his nerves. His heart was pounding against his chest. Making sure his next words would come out steady, Kit straightened and lowered his voice as he said, “I hope I will have your blessing to ask her to marry me,” Jenny looked surprised, “your blessing, and your husband’s,” Kit added, praying he did not overstep when he had only meant to be respectful.

Slowly but surely, Kit watched, his heart in his throat, as a smile spread across her face, “you have mine,” Jenny took his hand and Kit could not contain the grin that lit up his face, “I wouldn’t dare to speak for Rick but I am sure his blessing would come with a lot more threats and advice so let me issue you an advice in his memory. And one I so recently learned,” she squeezed his hand and fixed him with a steady gaze that demanded all of his attention, “the greatest gift you can give to the woman you love, apart from your heart, is your health,” Kit froze, “a healthy you is the best version of yourself you can offer to the woman you love and who loves you. You can do more for her and… you can be there for her,” Jenny’s gaze fell from Kit and Kit followed her gaze to see a photo of a man who Ben resembled so much Kit could only assume it to be Rick; the man who loved his family with all his heart but could not be here no matter how much he willed it.

* * *

Kit tossed the duvet away to roll onto his left side in the large bed. It was very comfortable, in all honesty but Kit could not sleep no matter what he did. He had tried to sleep with the duvet on and the duvet off, he went to the loo more times than he can count, he even did some push-ups. But every time his head hit the pillow, he would be wide awake. His conversation with Jenny resonated in his head, even now.

He rolled over with a frustrated growl and snatched his phone off the nightstand.

There was an unread message. From Emilia.

Kit grinned as he opened it.

**Can’t sleep**

**Are you awake?**

Kit extracted his other arm from under the duvet and made to begin typing his reply.

He jumped when he heard the door handle of his door turn. He craned his neck to stare as the door opened slowly.

To his delight, the face he most longed to see popped in through the crack in the door. He watched her search his room. When their eyes met, she grinned, her entire face lighting up beautifully, “Milly,” he sat up, flicking on the light on the nightstand, whispering, “what are you-“

She raised a finger to her lips. She slipped into his room, biting her lips with the effort to try to be quiet as she closed the door behind her. Kit realised he was smiling as he gazed at her turn the lock so carefully. She was wearing a set of pyjamas that Kit has never seen before; it looked worn with some prints that Kit could not see in semi-darkness. She turned to him then, still standing at the door.

“Come here,” Kit whispered, grinning. He pulled aside the duvet to reveal the empty space next to him, patting it invitingly. Emilia smiled, shuffling over. He watched, confused as she approached the side of the bed he was sitting at.

“Scoot over,” a knee on the mattress, she nudged him over.

Kit frowned, “no,” he hissed, “I always sleep on this side of the bed,” he told her, trying to keep his voice down.

Emilia pouted, “I want to sleep on this side tonight,” she pointed as if he didn’t know what side she was referring to. She nudged him harder. Surprised, he staggered, almost tipping onto his side but he held his ground, or sheets, “please,” she whimpered.

“Why? This has always been my side of the bed,” Kit argued.

She glared at him, to his surprise, she crawled onto the bed, over him.  

Her hand landed directly on his middle and her knee went straight into his thigh. Surprised, he yelped, “OUCH!”

“SHHH!” she hushed, a hand on his mouth.

The breath was knocked out of him as she collapsed onto him, half her body over his so that both of them were sleeping on the same side. Her petite frame found her spot amidst his body; tangling their legs together, tucking her shoulder under his arm, her neck on his shoulder, her jaw along his clavicle, her face in the nook of his neck. She snuggled her face into his warm skin, her nose surprisingly cold. He hissed and she muffled her giggle against his neck. He rolled his eyes even as his arm held her firmly to him.

“I feel like I’m sneaking a boy into my room,” she whispered.

Kit chuckled, leaning down to kiss her chastely on her lips. She smiled against his lips before giggling softly and burying her face into his neck again. Up close, Kit could see little bee prints with Zs all over her faded pyjamas, “nice attire,” Kit whispered, leaning down to fill his lungs with her.

To his surprise, he felt a sharp nip on his neck. Pain sparked from where she had nipped, some pleasure tingling down his spine to gather beneath his navel. He bit his lips to refrain from yelping again, “nicer than naked?” she whispered, her voice muffled. The lilt in her tone told him that she was teasing.

“No, naked’s nicer,” Kit replied instantly and his hand slipped under her pyjamas top to find the smooth, warm skin of her back. He caressed her in soft slow strokes, letting his fingertips trail along her spine, “that lingerie, holy fuck,”

“Pervert,” she scolded but it was lacking the usual strength and she sounded drowsy.

Comfortable silence filled the space between them as Kit soaked up the warmth of her and her hand found its usual spot on his body; finding and cupping his bollocks. He wiggled his hips, pushing his groin playfully into her warm palm. She giggled, rewarding him with a soft squeeze and pressing her breasts more firmly against his ribs. He hummed, his body radiating sheer contentment and sleep teased his mind, “why do you want to sleep on this side of the bed all of a sudden?” he murmured, his eyes slipping shut as his fingers reached the base of her spine. He examined the band of her pyjamas pants, absently wondering if he should slip under that.

“I don’t like to sleep by the window,” she whispered sluggishly, her warm breath tickling his neck. His fingers slipped past her pyjamas pants and he found her warm, bare arse, cradling it securely in his hand.

He furrowed his brows at what she just admitted, “why?” she did not reply and instead, snuggled closer, “are you afraid?” she nodded, barely noticeably. Kit chuckled, “of what? Lightning? Thunder?”

“Monkeys,” she murmured so softly he almost couldn’t hear.

Kit raised both brows, “monkeys?” he asked. When she didn’t reply, he felt and listened to her deep even breaths that told him she was asleep. Chuckling at the absurdity of her reply, he held her more securely against him, nuzzled his lips and the tip of his nose against her scalp and let sleep pull his mind under.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! So excited that I managed to get this done and updated today! Massive thanks to all that read and left me a comment last chapter. I'll be right over to reply to all the comments after this! 
> 
> I know you guys will probably have questions about Bennett and they will be resolved next chapter, along with transition to the next sub-plot of the story! 
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. Do leave me a comment to let me know if you do :) and even if you don't, it'll be nice to hear from you guys!


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